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The Restaurant Deal
Duane’s was supposed to be a reward for anxiety management this week. Since middle school, we’ve started this (unstructured) reward system for J to help him manage his behaviour. I say unstructured because it doesn’t involve a chart or points. There’s no consistent requirement for the amount of good behaviour days to earn this reward. It’s pretty much a carrot on a stick. Bribe really. It goes sort of like this: “J, if you can handle your behaviour and anxiety for the week, we can go to a restaurant of your choice. J, if you can handle your behaviour for the next two days, we can go to a restaurant…
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My sister is flying solo because her family is separated by COVID-19
What happens when life is happening and then COVID-19 decides to hijack everything? I think that’s a question we’re all trying to figure out. And we all have different pictures, different versions, of what “life” looks like. Teachers are scrambling to figure out how to adjust curriculum and adapt them to brand new formats. Parents are trying to figure out how to work from home and help facilitate their kids “home school” electronically (luckily, most of us Fargo parents have a little more time before we have to figure that out). Families are trying to figure out how to make sure their kids are being taken care of while they…
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Sometimes you don’t deserve a Gatorade
When I saw J writing the word “unicorn” over and over in the air as he ran each lap of his 1600 m race last week I wasn’t happy. I know most spectators didn’t catch J’s “air cursive,” but Steve and I sure did. What most spectators saw was J smiling and laughing each time he rounded the track. It looked like he was having a good time. And that was the problem. J was having a good time–not being a part of the race. I’m sure if anyone heard me chew out J post-race and tell him he didn’t earn his Gatorade (which he ALWAYS does after a race)…
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New York Trip Part 2: Autism and the City
This whole trip had me thinking: What if we lived in New York City? How would J function living in such a busy, overstimulating place? I know there’s got to be autistic children and adults who live and function in New York every single day. Where are they? And how do they do it? New York City is definitely NOT disability friendly (I don’t know how someone in a wheelchair could use the subway system or get into any of the little or shops or restaurants we walked by). It’s busy, it’s fast, and totally unpredictable. And those things are hard to navigate when you have a disability. 1. The…
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16
Birthdays and autism can be a really rough combination. Birthdays for kids on the spectrum can be a sensory overload circus. (I have years of videos and pictures of J covering his ears and crying at not only his birthday parties, but W’s too.). Milestone birthdays are rough on parents because it’s another one of those reminders of all of the things your kid isn’t doing. When W turned 14 in August, we threw her a masquerade murder mystery party. I even made homemade stuffed shells and bought rosemary rolls from Breadsmith and cheesecake to make the dinner part fancy schmancy. She prepped for that party almost a full month…
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Willmar with a Side of Poutine
At around 5:00 Saturday night J, Steve, W, and I sat in a Wendy’s in Alexandria, Minnesota. Actually Steve, W, and I sat at one table. J sat at another table, insisting he eat by himself. We weren’t going to push eating together as a family. J had cleared the two biggest hurdles that have consumed his mind since Labour Day weekend–exit 55 and 67–on the way to his Willmar, Minnesota meet and he ran a good race. We weren’t going to force him to be at the same table as a box of French fries. J has a phobia about French fries. It doesn’t permeate to all potato-related foods.…
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A Mr Rogers Intervention
Thursday night at 7:30 the Beck family picked up a pepperoni pizza at Little Caesars after the late matinee showing of the Mr. Rogers Documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? I’ll get back to the movie in a moment. It’s important to talk about the 7:30 incident in the Little Caesar’s parking lot first. For some reason, Steve and I had forgotten past incidents of the bewitching hour—when J’s blood sugar is low and hangry levels are high, but being the imperfect parents that we are, we did. In fact, not only did we forget about the bewitching hour, but we decided to make an extra trip to Barnes…
