The joy and anguish of flying a kite

After the school year ended we took a much-needed mini vacation, which ended up being a small family reunion. My mom had just been recently released from the hospital. My brother flew out from Colorado and my dad rented a beach house on the Oregon Coast for all of us. It was a nice time to gather together and just be a family for a few days.

Part of the trip we were dodging rain drops, and this was a picture I captured one evening as I enjoyed the view of the sunset over the ocean from our rental.

The boys had a huge fascination with the stairs, since our home is single level. They kept running up the stairs and sliding down them head first. They had tons of fun!



And then, there was the sleeping loft. It was a match made in little boy heaven. They got their own cool sleeping space that gave them an awesome view of what was going on downstairs.

And, when you have a really tall daddy like Titan, this is what happens when little boy feet are dangling through the railing...

I found my dad and Monkey hanging out in the sunshine one afternoon in the back yard.

And, after about 20 minutes of carefully negotiating our extremely sensory-sensitive Prince Charming into the water of the hot tub, I was able to capture this gem before I climbed into the water with the boys.

I love the Oregon coast. It is so picturesque.

 

And, now we get to the heart of our story.

In anticipation of our beach trip, I had purchased new Angry Birds kites for the boys. They had never had a very successful kite-flying experience before, so we were eager to test the new kites' ability to catch the wind.

After a quick tutorial with a short line, the boys practiced near us and ran around in circles. They had a lovely time. Titan then showed them that they could let the line out more and watch it fly higher. All they had to do was run to keep it in the air.

And that is when it went horribly wrong.

At first, I was enamored by the sheer joy on their faces. It was an astonishing moment of freedom for them. They were running with excitement and happiness. I didn't want the moment to end and was rapidly taking pictures of them to capture this milestone. I was able to watch their fun easily through the zoom lens of my camera.

I put the camera away for a moment to chat with Titan, and that's when it happened. We both realized exactly how far down the beach the boys had gone. And they continued to run, without stopping. They did not glance back once. Monkey was in the lead and Prince Charming was just trying to keep up with his brother.

Titan and I left my dad and brother behind as we scrambled down the beach as fast as we could through the sand. Each moment we traveled, the further and further away they got. After chasing them for what was likely ten minutes (that seemed like an eternity), the wind must have shifted, because Prince Charming managed to hear one of my bellows.

He stopped and looked back. Monkey was still running at full speed.

I used exaggerated body movements and sign language to tell Prince Charming that he needed to get his brother and come back to us. He seemed to understand, thank the Lord.

He ran off to catch up to his brother and started yelling his name. Monkey was far enough away he didn't hear him. Titan and I continued toward them, but knew that neither could hear us. After a few more minutes, Prince Charming managed to get close enough to Monkey to get his attention, and he finally looked back toward us.

Titan and I were wildly signaling with our hands to come back. He saw us. Both of the boys started heading back in our direction. Thank God. I never made it down the beach as far as Monkey did, and I swear to you it was probably at least a mile away from where we had begun. Looking back down toward our starting point, my dad and brother were barely distinguishable as dark specks on the sand.

When the boys made it back to us, we quickly reeled in the lines on their kites and had a stern chat with them. The long walk back was spent in silence. There were no smiles. No more joy.

It was a shame. They had no cares in the world as they ran along the beach, loving their kites, the wind, and the sun. What was a blissfully happy moment for the boys became something entirely different. Their freedom escalated into our intense worry over their safety, and our recognition that they lacked understanding of possible consequences.

After we re-joined the others and the boys settled into looking at rocks, I quietly excused myself. As I walked up the hill to the car, the tears began to fall behind my sunglasses. I stifled my sobs until I got into my car, and then I let it all out.

This was not the first time Monkey had wandered away with no regard for safety. One time he was brought back to us by the police after being missing for almost an hour with a full-fledged neighborhood search underway. It was a horrific experience I never wanted to repeat. Talk about a flashback.

It had been a few years since we had dealt with his complete disregard for safety concerns. Titan and I thought this portion of our autism experience was finally behind us. That hope was immediately crushed as I reflected on what had just happened with the kites and what could have been, had we not been able to get Prince Charming to hear us and understand that he needed to get his brother's attention. With Monkey's high level of endurance, rate of speed, and sheer distance he had on us, there is no telling where he could have ended up before he stopped.

I was snapped back into the reality of autism.

As I cried in the car, I wondered if any of it would ever actually be behind us. The rollercoaster of the boys doing well then not doing well, improving and regressing...it's all so exhausting as so many things in so many areas of their lives can be affected.

It made me ponder the big picture. What will the future hold for my children? It can seem so uncertain from day to day. I always hope for the best, but you can't help but go through worst-case scenarios in your head. Will my planning 20 steps ahead for things ever stop? Will my boys ever lead a "normal" life? I guess I have less certainty of that than I thought I did.

A day that started with so much joy, ended with anguish.

As we checked out of our rental that morning and went down to the beach one last time to fly kites before we left town, I certainly didn't expect our vacation to end on that note. And, I doubt I will ever look at a kite in the same way again.          

The rollercoaster of change

I try hard to be real with you. I try to be authentic. I’m not about giving you only the best version of myself and my kids. If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you probably know that I keep things fairly eclectic. I go from serious topics to recipes to humor to a myriad of other things, and I try to keep things light whenever possible. Humor is one of the best coping tools I’ve got.  

I’m going to be honest.

I’m struggling.

I work hard at many things. In order to keep my head above water and not be overwhelmed by everything going on in my life, I put on an exterior of positivity and confidence. It’s not a cocky thing. It’s not a fake façade. It serves a purpose. You know, one of those “create your reality” trains of thought. I know I won’t do any good to myself or anyone else if I wallow in all of my problems, so I don’t. It’s a deliberate choice, and I think it works for me most of the time.

But, I’m struggling. I couldn’t fall asleep tonight because I couldn’t stop thinking about things, and the emotions were too intense to allow me to sleep. So, I got back up to write this post. Since I started this blog, I have found that writing posts can be quite therapeutic. It helps me process what’s going on in my life so that it somehow feels more manageable. Writing is another one of my coping tools.

While change can be good, it feels really scary right now.

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I was at a place where I felt our family was more stable with the boys’ behaviors, their schooling, and even our finances were starting to slightly improve. None of it has been easy. However, if our past is any indication, getting comfortable usually means change is about to happen. I never seem to see it coming. You’d think I’d be used to the rollercoaster effect by now, but I’m surprised every single time we crest the hill and come screaming down into a new challenge.

Spring has typically been a hard time of year for us, so I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Spring Break in particular has been a time of regression for my boys in the past. And yes, we are smack dab in the middle of Spring Break right now. I don’t know what it is about the “spring forward” time change, the plants blooming and growing, and things happening with my boys, but there is something there.

I learned very recently that Monkey is having some issues that are affecting him much more than I previously realized. I don’t think he deliberately tried to hide anything from me, but he just has a hard time communicating what’s going on when it involves emotions. It’s easier for him to suppress things than to talk about them, because talking about it makes him very uncomfortable.

Of course, then I have immediate guilt about being too distracted from my nonprofit work to notice if there had been any silent signals from him. It’s a mother’s job to know. Was I paying enough attention?

Monkey is a very complex individual. He is layered like an onion. I continuously find there is more going on with him than meets the eye. It’s just really hard to get some of his layers to peel back so that I can gain a better understanding.

I immediately reached out for some psychological assistance to discuss my specific concerns, and was able to get in to talk with someone highly regarded for their work with autism. Monkey had his first appointment on Monday – on the first day of Spring Break. Fitting, isn’t it?

I have no idea how we are going to pay for it. I just know he needs it.

At about the same time I was figuring out the issues with Monkey, I learned that Prince Charming is struggling socially at school. Since he started talking, this has not been a huge concern for me. He has been much more social than Monkey, and I didn’t think I’d need to worry about that so much with him. Well, I was wrong.

And, with Autism Awareness Month, this is one of the busiest times of the year for me in my nonprofit work. It’s the height of event season and I’ve been at a dead run for God knows how long. I’m exhausted. That’s why I’ve been scarce here on the blog, because I’m too tired to keep my eyes open long enough to type anything coherent for you to read.

In the past week my Grandma was placed on hospice. It was not unexpected, but it’s still hard to grasp. Her brain doesn’t seem to be failing her, but her body is. I am thankful that I was able to go down and see her again last week and have her video chat with the boys on my cell phone. She thought that was a hoot. I haven't yet figured out how to prepare the boys for her eventual passing. Frankly, I don't know how I will deal with it for myself either.   

Tonight I learned that my parents will likely be moving back out of state. They only came back to Washington about 2 years ago, after having missed a good portion of the boys’ childhood. It was such a blessing to have my parents back and involved in their lives again. I have no idea what I will tell the boys to make them understand why they are moving. I think it will have a huge impact on Monkey in particular, who is already struggling to talk about things that make him sad. Having his Grandpa and Grandma move away will be hard for him to process.

And, I’m sad for me. I will miss being able to pop by their house. I’ll also miss the big surprise we got every time they showed up at our door unannounced and the kids went wild with excitement. And, I’ll miss all of the coffee dates my dad and I would squeeze in when the kids were at school. The thought of all that going away in light of everything else simmering in the background was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

So, I'm struggling.

I know this stuff is small potatoes for a lot of people. I also know that there are much bigger problems in the world.

But, for tonight, I’m allowing myself to fall to pieces over all of the changes that I don’t feel ready for, so that tomorrow I can hopefully re-focus and press forward.     

 

The bus is late! Oh my!

It happens to everyone who has a kid that rides the bus. At some point, the bus will be late. It's just one of those things.

Monkey can be a worry wart. He becomes very concerned when the bus is late and I try to reassure him that it's okay and he won't get in trouble at school. When the bus finally does show up, he will make comments to the driver just to make sure that they know they're late and that he will be late to school because of it.

I always smile to the driver and wave.

Well, today we had icy weather to wake up to. It was in the mid-to-high 20's outside. While Prince Charming was snug and warm inside on the couch under a blanket, Monkey and I were huddled together in the dark, waiting for the bus outside. It wasn't helping that I had just come down with another cold right after I had gotten over my Christmas/New Years cold.

Time passed. No bus.

More time passes. Still no bus.

Monkey is starting to pace a little bit, and he's walking further out to get a better view of whether or not he can see if the bus is coming. Each time, nothing.

I check the time again and the bus is now more than 15 minutes late. I have a good relationship with the driver since Monkey is the only one on this particular special transportation route. Usually she texts me or calls me, and I've heard nothing from her or from the transportation department at the district about the status of the bus. I wonder if she's out sick today. Monkey had a substitute driver yesterday afternoon... It's probably why I hadn't heard anything.

I pull out the ice scraper and come up with a plan. I tell Monkey that I'm going to go ahead and start prepping the car in the event that I need to take him to school, but we are going to give it a little bit more time and see what happens.

The ice is layered in such a way that it doesn't do me much good to scrape the windows, so I go inside and get my car keys and start up the car to start the thawing out process.

I check the time again. The bus is now over 20 minutes late. Okay, it's time to call the transportation department! I get on the phone and tell them that the bus is very late and we've been standing outside in the cold while I am sick. I am promptly put on hold with dispatch while they look into the status of his bus.

Monkey and I watch the exhaust billowing from the car in the frosty air. The windshield wipers finally come free from their icy position and begin to work. We listen to the rubbery scrape while the car idles. It seems we are the only ones awake and moving in the chilly dark of the morning.

"Yes, hello? Well, it appears that there is a problem with the bus and it is not operating. I can try to get another bus dispatched to him for you but I would need to find out exactly how long that would take."

Bitter, ugly thoughts jump around in my head, but I do not utter them out loud.

"Ummm, I don't think that's necessary. While I've been on hold with you, I've been de-icing my car. I'll go ahead and take him to school myself. Next time I would appreciate a call to let me know if the bus is not coming. Thank you." I coughed loudly for effect before I hung up. I'm a teeny bit passive-agressive that way.

I go back into the house and tell Prince Charming he needs to get his coat and shoes on because we have to take his brother to school. He complains bitterly, but complies.

I wouldn't want to get out from under the blanket either. And, it's a change in his routine. I understand why it's hard for him. But, I don't have much patience. I feel like crap, I'm cold, I'm irritated, and Monkey is already late for school.

It occurs to me to call the teacher to let him know what's happening. By doing so, I was able to reassure Monkey that his teacher knows he'll be late and that he said it would be fine. Monkey liked hearing that his teacher said, "I'll see him when he gets here!"

I go back outside and quickly discover that my car doors are frozen shut. Like completely. Not moving a millimeter. Frozen.

Great.

I head back inside and see Prince Charming is ready to go, thank God. I run the faucet until I get really hot water while I search the cabinets for a pitcher. Prince Charming comes outside with me and both the boys watch while I pour the hot water over the doors. They watch the steam rising from the car and the ice melting off. The doors magically open. Voila! They pile into the car, and we are off! Monkey is now over 30 minutes past when his bus should have arrived and he is most definitely late for school.

We head down the road, and I quickly run over the events of the morning in my head. I realize something pretty significant.

Monkey didn't get upset. He wasn't excessively worried. The most intense thing he did was pace a little and watch for the bus quietly.

I was amazed. I was proud.  Maybe my reassurances all of these years are finally soaking in. Who knows?

"Hey, kid. I wanna tell you that I'm really proud of the way you handled the bus situation this morning. I know it's hard for you to be late and I'm happy that you didn't worry too much about the bus. Like I told you before, you'll get to school no matter what, because if the bus can't take you, I will. You can count on that. Hey...I have an idea!"

"What?"

"Well, since you did such a good job this morning by being flexible and not feeling upset about the bus, I was thinking about a possible surprise. But, if we do the surprise, it means you're going to be another 5 minutes late to school. You can choose what you want to do. If you want to go straight to school, then that's what we'll do. If you're okay being a few more minutes later than we already are, then I'll tell you my idea."

He paused for a moment, assessing his options. "I'll be okay if we are 5 more minutes late. What's the surprise?"

"How about we get some hot chocolate on the way to school because you did such a good job?"

"I knew it!"

"Yeah, I figured you did, kiddo."

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And with that, Monkey and Prince Charming got to enjoy a very rare treat while in the car on an icy morning on the way to Monkey's school all because the bus was late.

When we got to the school, Monkey was very calm. He got his attendance slip from the office and walked down the hall to his class while Prince Charming and I told him goodbye. He did such a good job. It was well worth a little treat.

One thing I've learned with my boys is to celebrate the small wins. It's not often that you get a huge win, so recognize the little steps that are gained and make sure your child knows that you see them happening. Sometimes a little hot chocolate on the way to school can be a very good thing.

Parenthood and the cancer diagnosis

Lately, every time I sit down to watch the NBC show, Parenthood, I am in tears by the end of the episode. And, it’s not just a girly hormonal thing.

Generally speaking, I enjoy the show because they incorporate a lot of relevant topics, weaving them throughout their episodes. Things like: adoption, military/PTSD, Asperger Syndrome, and the larger concept of family.

Their recent story line with Kristina getting breast cancer has touched me. Deeply.

As with most people, I have a family connection to cancer. I have seen loved ones pass away from the ravages of this disease, and it isn’t pretty. It’s never pretty.

I have dealt with my own husband getting a cancer diagnosis just before his 30^th birthday.

It was the most difficult time of my life. That seems almost dumb to say because I wasn’t the one who had to deal with cancer – surgery, bone marrow biopsy, scans of all kinds, chemotherapy, radiation and more scans.

I cannot even imagine what Titan must have gone through in those moments by himself.

That’s what I was thinking of as I watched the last scene of the “Together” episode of Parenthood, when Adam was sitting with Kristina in the infusion room, holding her hand while her first round of chemotherapy was administered.


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I did not get the opportunity to be there with my husband as he went through the process, and it hurts me to this day. It was just not possible.

I wasn’t there when he got a terrible chemical burn when the chemo blew through his vein and destroyed the tissue inside his hand – which still bothers him to this day. I wasn’t there when they began diluting the chemo because of how much it burned going in, which took 2-3 times longer to administer. I wasn’t there when he felt immediately nauseous whenever he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. I wasn’t there when he almost walked away from his last round of chemo because they couldn’t find a vein and he had to spend hours at 2 different hospitals just trying to get the IV set. I wasn’t there when he got the tattoos on his chest to calibrate the radiation machine. I wasn’t there because I couldn’t be.    

We didn’t have much help during that time. It was pretty much us against the world. I had to take care of my non-stop toddler and screaming baby during Titan’s treatment. It didn’t help that the kids and I were chronically sick the entire time he received chemo. We had one cold after another after another. Titan had to wear a surgical mask whenever he entered our house. For months. Even if I had been able to secure a babysitter to watch the boys while I went with Titan to the hospital, I couldn’t be there because I was a germy threat to each person that had a compromised immune system.

Titan after a round of chemotherapy - December 2005

 

It felt terrible knowing that I was stuck at home and my husband had to go through treatment completely alone. As his wife, it cut me to the core. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

At the time, Monkey was in the thick of the terrible two’s, which we later found out was autism. Prince Charming was only a few months old, and he didn’t sleep, had terrible reflux despite breastfeeding, and he cried all the time. Of course, now we know he had undiagnosed food allergies and autism.

Every single day was intensely challenging, and if I managed to get a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep a night, I counted myself lucky. Dealing with Titan’s cancer in the middle of all of that was just one more layer of chaos to a life that already felt completely out of control.

I was trying to figure out how to parent my children, who both seemed like unsolvable puzzles. I was trying to care for my husband who still had to work and support us, and couldn’t really help me with the kids or the house. All I could do was educate myself about cancer and treatments. I felt that if I couldn’t be there in person to show my support and sit with him for the hours he had to be there, I could show support from home by learning as much as possible to help him.

During the course of my husband’s diagnosis, surgery and treatment, we made a conscious decision to not focus on being scared or sad, but to maintain a positive and proactive approach. We did not grieve the diagnosis or dwell on anything that could go wrong. We both knew that Titan had to stick around and that there were no other options, so we agreed on maintaining that attitude and asked God to help make our faith a reality.

When we sat in the room with the doctor and went over the results that showed the presence of cancer, we accepted the diagnosis with a smile and not tears. Our response was unsettling to the doctor, who scolded us for not taking things seriously.

It was then that I became educated.   

Up to that point, I was staunchly mainstream with all of my ideas about medicine, food, and doctors. Everything I thought I knew was challenged. And, that is when it all changed for me.  

I learned the difference between vegetarian, vegan and raw. I learned what a naturopath does. I learned that there are stores dedicated only to supplements, vitamins and nutrition. I learned about acid-alkaline balance. I learned that charities like the American Cancer Society and Susan G. Komen are not all they’re cracked up to be. I learned that there is a difference between juice you buy at the grocery store and juice you make at home with a fancy machine.

I learned so many things!

I tried to use this knowledge for my husband’s benefit as he dealt with cancer. He lost 30 pounds, he lowered his cholesterol significantly without prescription medication, and he didn’t lose his hair as they promised us he would (although it did thin a bit). The doctors were extremely worried about his weight loss, and we were able to convince them that it was actually a sign of his good health because of the changes we had made to his diet and nutrition. We were trying to support his body so that he could better deal with the toxic effects of the chemotherapy.

It has been 7 years since he received his diagnosis.   

One thing is for sure: everything we learned about cancer has helped us with autism. Everything.

For that, I am thankful for the experience, despite how difficult it was. My eyes may not have been as open had my husband not had cancer. I probably would have never considered anything “alternative,” like the GFCF diet that unlocked speech for Prince Charming.

My boys are better off now because my husband had cancer. That is a completely bizarre thought, but it’s true.

I wish I could have been there for my husband in the ways I had hoped to as his wife, but our life just didn’t allow for it at the time. I think any wife and wannabe super mom always hopes to do it all, and it’s hard when reality doesn’t allow you to even try. I know that I can’t change what happened and that Titan understood, but I still wish I could have done more. There is still a lot of pain and pangs of guilt over that, which all came flooding back when I watched Parenthood.

Now that we are so far removed from the diagnosis and treatment, I can allow myself to feel those feelings. A little bit of distance from it helps me realize how remarkable the whole thing was, and how well we did in the circumstances.

It feels like an eternity has passed, yet when watching the show, it’s like it was just yesterday. I guess as long as the cancer storyline continues on Parenthood, I’ll get a little bit of therapy one episode at a time.      

          

Wordless Wednesday: Oral Surgery

This is Monkey just before he had a few extractions. He was a brave boy! The anesthesia later made him sick, so he felt his appointment was "horrible." Poor kid.

While waiting for his follow-up a week after the extractions, Monkey cleared the board on Pac-Man. Luckily, playing the video game made going back to the oral surgeon all worthwhile, and he no longer thinks the experience was horrible! You gotta love Pac-Man!    

Flashback Friday: Sensory Meltdown

Last year I wrote about a big meltdown that Prince Charming had while at therapy. I remember the incident vividly.

Even though I was among friends and fellow autism moms that day, I remember feeling pangs of embarrassment and slight panic as I tried to de-escalate him.

Thankfully, we haven't had one of those epic meltdowns in a while. I'll keep my fingers crossed that it stays that way.

Check out my post: Meltdowns Happen. 

Young boy with autism is handcuffed

I read this article and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It struck me how easily something like this could happen to my son or many other kids I know.

An 8-year old boy with autism had a meltdown on a school bus and was then handcuffed and taken to the local children’s hospital for a mental health hold. They kept the boy in handcuffs long after he had calmed down. The mother was not allowed to escort her son to the hospital and instead the boy was transported by the police.

So many things run through my head when I think once again about this story.  

First, this whole thing is so very sad. For the mom. For the dad. For the child. For autism parents like me. For everyone. It also makes me angry. Very angry.   

Second, can you say lawsuit? There are so many things that could have legal remedy here. Most importantly is the lack of proper IEP implementation.

Third, the meltdown trigger could be so simple that it’s tragic to see how the whole thing unfolded. The article mentioned that the boy required a special seat belt for his bus transportation. Have any of you, like me, ever seen the calming effect of a seat belt (like a 5-point harness) on a child in full-tilt meltdown? Could it be all about the sensory for this boy?

There were times when Grumpy Badger would be flipping out in public, and all I could do was remove him from the situation and go sit with him in the car (belted into his car seat) until he calmed down. Sometimes getting him belted in, despite his physical struggle, was the only way to stop the escalation of his meltdown.

Along the same lines, isn’t it also safe to conjecture that something as insignificant as a change in routine (like this boy not having his special seat belt on the bus that day) could cause a meltdown, particularly if there is a sensory component to it? I think it is very possible.

The idea that it all could have come down to a change in routine and an easily-identifiable sensory issue really gets me. Could it have really been that simple?

The parents concerns over this incident should be pondered very carefully by the school district. The mother questioned why the police “didn’t take the handcuffs off once he had calmed down.” Very good question, mom! I don’t think there will be any sort of acceptable answer to that one. The father said, “It’s humiliating and it’s inhumane. If you’re going to tell me that ten adults can’t handle a 40 or 50 pound child, then there is something wrong. He didn’t need to be in handcuffs.” Dad, your words ring very true to me!

I could go on and on about this, but I don’t think you need or want me to hammer the point home in extremely minute detail. I think it’s fairly obvious that I don’t like what happened to this 8-year old boy one bit. This child was improperly served by his school and the situation was dealt with in the wrong way. Plain and simple. I can only pray that I never have to experience something like this with my own children.  

What are your thoughts about this incident? Please share your comments below.  

Run! Mother Nature is calling!

Want to know what I learned when we went on a mini-vacation to the Oregon Coast? Mother Nature beckons at the most inopportune times. It’s almost like a cruel joke. It happened time and time again while doing various fun activities on our trip. For instance, when we walked down the beach so far that we could no longer see our hotel…THAT was the moment. Or, when we finally got the kids comfortable in the swimming pool and ready to try to swim…THAT was the moment.

What is this moment? It is precisely when the boys realize that I-have-to-go-poop-right-now-or-we-are-going-to-have-a-big-problem. Often times they are completely unaware that their body is telling them it’s time to head toward the bathroom and by some stroke of luck I might pick up on the signs before they do. If I ask the question, there is almost always an immediate response akin to, “NO, I don’t have to go right now. That would cut into my fun. Duh.” They get so distracted when they are busy doing things they enjoy that it somehow renders them incapable of listening to the little voice inside their body that has an early warning system for such issues. They wait until they are about 5 seconds shy of an eminent waste explosion and then the look on their face turns to sheer panic and we find ourselves in a real pickle of a situation.

I thought I would share 2 of my favorite the most memorable “Mother Nature moments” from our trip.

First, did you happen to watch a CBS series called, “Undercover Boss?” In case you never saw the show, they take the top executive of a company and put them undercover as an entry-level employee at their own company. They go around and do various menial jobs and get a very clear view of how their company is working, discover things they never knew, and also learn ways to make their company function better, both for the customers and also for the employees. It’s a great show, particularly if you are like me and have a business background. I would watch the show and literally craft a case study in my brain as it went along. Yes, I know I’m a total nerd. I’m cool like that.

Anyway, one of the episodes featured a top executive from Great Wolf Lodge. I have never been to my local Great Wolf Lodge, but lots of people I know have been and enjoyed their stay there. And, if you have no idea what a Great Wolf Lodge is, it’s a huge water park inside a hotel. So, in the show this lady is doing some of the low-on-the-totem-pole jobs, including helping to watch the pool areas. At one point, there is an AFR code. A what? AFR stands for Accidental Fecal Release. I started simultaneously cringing and chuckling as I watch this big cheese exec get into the pool and pick up a pile of kid poo. I bet at that moment she wished she had never signed up for the undercover assignment!

Well, we nearly had our own AFR while we were swimming on the second day of our vacation. It didn’t matter that we had the boys go to the bathroom before we got suited up and walked over to the pool, or that I would occasionally ask them if they needed to go while we were at the pool. It was always an emphatic, “No” when the question was asked. It takes the boys a while to get into the pool (due to their sensory issues with temperature) and then get comfortable enough to want to move away from the side of the pool. We hardly ever get a chance to get them in a pool, so it’s like they have to start over each time, no matter how much progress we made with them in the past.

The boys were finally able to stop clinging to the wall (or me) and actually started to play in the water. I turned my attention to Prince Charming because Monkey was walking along in the 3 foot deep section and Prince Charming wanted to use the kickboard. I helped get Prince Charming positioned with the kickboard and Titan began to help him kick his legs properly when I turned back around and saw Monkey posturing. Even with a good portion of his body submerged, I could see that he had his behind sticking out like he was impersonating the walk of a duck. I asked him if he had to go and he said no. I watched him for another few seconds and asked him again, more insistently. He stopped moving and then the light bulb switched on. Ding! He was done.

I could see he only had mere seconds, so I urgently instructed him to get out of the pool and go into the bathroom (about 15 feet away). I yelled over at Titan to get out of the water and run after him while I swam over to Prince Charming. By the time Titan stepped foot into the bathroom I heard Monkey yell. I knew what had happened. I listened as the shower was turned on and then I began to smell the aroma that is unmistakably Monkey’s when he’s having some slight GI issues. The pool is indoors with open beams near the ceiling between the bathrooms and the main pool and hot tub area. Goodness gracious, the entire place began to smell pungent. I pretended that I didn’t smell or hear anything, so as to not draw further attention to the situation in front of the other families present.

I felt so bad for Monkey. I also felt bad for Titan since he was having deal with this whole thing in a public bathroom…thank God there was a shower in there! He got Monkey cleaned up as best as he could, cleaned up the floor, grabbed a towel, and walked Monkey back to the room for a proper shower with warm water and privacy. Pool time and fun in the water ended abruptly. Mother Nature, knock it off, would ya?

The following day, after breakfast and a bit of shopping, we took a few minutes to “freshen up” in our hotel room before heading down to the beach. I checked with the boys several times about going poop before we left, and forced them to at least try before we left the room. The walk down to the beach from our room takes a few minutes and then you have to climb down about a million steps. Okay, it’s more like one hundred. It’s a haul, for sure. There is an outcropping of rocks about 1,000 feet from the staircase, which is where you can see tide pools and all kinds of fun stuff when the tide is out. That is where we were headed.

We had just gotten there and I had taken a couple pictures of the boys climbing on the rocks when Prince Charming got the intense urge to go. He started waddling and I had no idea how he would manage to hold it in all the way back and up the million stairs, much less how my asthmatic husband would make it when pressed for time. All I could do was watch and pray as they took off for the room. By the grace of God, Prince Charming managed to hold it until they got there. Then, while he was wriggling his clothes off in the bathroom, he had a slight accident. It was miraculous that he didn’t have 10-pound droopy drawers the whole way back to the room! Our beachcombing, rock exploration, and leisurely walk ended just as fast as it began. Mother Nature, you’re really starting to get on my nerves.

One of these days I hope that Mother Nature doesn’t foil our fun plans during a vacation. It would be nice to plan an activity and be able to actually do that activity for more than a few minutes before we are forced to stop. Mother Nature, you always have us running, that’s for sure!   

            

My first post at SPD Blogger Network!

Wow! My first post was published today over at SPD Blogger Network! It's a wonderful site and I encourage all parents who have kids with any sort of sensory issue (which, let's face it, includes almost all of us!) to visit and read through the gamut of posts related to Sensory Processing Disorder.

"Meltdowns Happen" ran here on my blog in February. It's my second most popular post ever, so I'm thrilled to share it with a new audience. I hope that my story of managing a meltdown with Grumpy Badger will help others realize that you are not the only parent that deals with this kind of thing. Parents, especially moms, need to be reminded that you are not alone. I've been there, too. As a community, we're in this together.

Meltdowns happen, as much as we wish they didn't. This is despite the efforts of caring parents who work diligently to navigate situations that might trigger problems for their child. While our children learn coping strategies, our job is to continue helping them through those tough situations. Meltdowns are as hard on your child as they are on you. Keep moving and do what you think is best. You are the expert on your child, after all. Keep up the good work!

This is a great opportunity to learn from each other. I've found that tips from fellow parents are often better than those I've read in a book. Please feel free to comment below with strategies that have helped you and your child during a meltdown. Here's to meltdown-free days, or at least longer stretches between them!    

Meltdowns happen

You know the saying... “Sh*t happens!” Well, I can tell you that meltdowns happen! And they can be loads ‘o fun! Like poking your eye with a sharp stick kind of fun. I had the distinct pleasure of working through a meltdown last night with Grumpy Badger.  

Granted, he’s had some big transitions recently. He started a new schedule at school last week. We are working to integrate him from half-day into a longer school day, eventually moving him into a regular classroom. I think the changes are wearing him out, which makes his meltdown fuse shorter than normal.

I could tell when he got home from school that it might be an interesting night. He was very reactive to everything I was saying, and any demands placed upon him launched an automatic tirade of complaining and “I don’t want to” responses.

By the time we got to his social skills group, he seemed to be more cooperative and I thought we might be able to redeem the evening. Toward the end of his appointment, he was becoming unfocused and non-participatory. The meltdown alert system in my head started to sound the alarm that there might be impending doom sometime soon. I was right.