anxiety
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The Minneapolis Trip That Didn’t Happen
Three years ago we brought autism to a rock concert and the Women’s FIFA World Cup. Since then we’ve taken autism to California, Ontario, Manitoba, Kansas, Florida, Colorado, and Utah. We’ve taken autism to the Canadian Rockies and we’ve taken autism to Hawaii. I go back to these posts and look at all of the little hiccups we encountered along the way. Sensory overload at the Imagine Dragons concert, “tainted” hotel room numbers, late nights, disrupted schedules, toenail injuries and urgent care visits. Anxiety over tram rides. Time zone jumping and red-eye flights. None of these trips happened without some sort of minor autism crisis–but we managed them all. I’d consider all of…
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Drops in the bucket
It was raining and I had one preschooler to get from the parking lot to the school. The toddler had to come along too, because you can’t leave toddlers in the car by themselves. Toddlers and preschoolers don’t like you when it’s raining and you’re in a hurry. They either lift up their feet and execute very exaggerated, enthusiastic stomps in the middle of a puddle sending water up their legs, pants, diaper, and everyone else in close proximity, (which is you because you’re holding their hand trying to lead them away from all the water hazards in the parking lot), or they stand petrified in the middle of the…
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Sabre-toothed Tigers
I’ve debated over and over again how to talk to my kids about school shootings. I’ve had short, infrequent, conversations with my daughter, who at this point, is totally unfazed by them. She tells me that she knows what to do–hide in place, fight back, almost with a defiant composure. She’s pretty confident in her self-preservation skills. I let her keep that confidence, even though, as demonstrated by February 14th’s events, when a school follows these procedures to a T, 17 people still die. Dozens are injured. I don’t tell her the emperor has no clothes. False confidence is better than no faith. And how do we talk to my…
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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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Triskaidekaphobia
At a very young age we’re taught about the significance of certain symbols around us. We expose preschoolers to the alphabet by focusing on the first letter in their name (S was my favourite letter for a really long time as a kid). We teach toddlers about numbers by focusing on their age. When you ask a toddler “how old are you?” that little baby face–that doesn’t know anything about quantity or numbers–will proudly offer a few fingers to you and reply, “I’m three.” We teach kids that letters and numbers have personal associations before they have actual meaning. When I was little, I didn’t care if an “S” said…
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The “holiday” thing
I’m not very good at the “holiday” thing. Autism doesn’t allow me to take many holidays. If I’m going to take a break from life (for a few hours or days) the number one requirement has to be that I’m by myself. Maybe with another adult like Steve or a good friend. Far away from home. With no kids. Family holidays are never holidays for parents—moms especially. Family holidays for autism families are never, NEVER, holidays for anyone—parents or kids. A lot of times you’re in a place away from home, with lots of other people who are unfamiliar with your needs or schedule, who are all off of their…
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Some weeks…
Funny not funny story. Last week and a half has been a little rough. And as I started to write this blog post, I started thinking, hey…last year–at this exact very time–was rough. Last year J had an epic meltdown the day after election day. In fact, he got kicked out of school and I had to bring him home early. And then I remembered, hey…when did I write that post about being in the mid-semester slump? 2 years ago at around this exact time. Guess what happened this week? any guesses? J got kicked out of school for behaviour this Thursday. At this point, I’ve determined he’s an unpredictable predictable…
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Going beyond self regulation
Now that J’s conquered a lot of these “keeping it together” challenges, I’m starting to see the other challenges that have been eclipsed by the mental and behavioural ones. J doesn’t know how to do things on his own, even when he’s “checked in” and running a good effort. All of his life, he’s had someone beside him telling him what to do or how to push through something and through this season of XC, I’ve seen these problems come to the forefront because he’s managing himself so well on his own.
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Deception, Manipulation, and Bribery
Willmar. We’ve avoided talking about this race all season. When J first saw the race schedule for the year, he immediately had a meltdown when he saw Willmar, MN listed. “I’m not going there! I am NOT running in Willmar!” The anxiety runs strong in this one. I knew what this full-on panic attack in my living room was about–or at least I had a hunch. He couldn’t articulate it exactly to me–he was that worked up–but I knew it had to do with a number phobia. Specifically an exit number or mile marker. J has catalogued every exit number in every single state we’ve driven through and locked that…
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Glitches vs Emergencies
When the week started, I knew what this post was going to be about. It was going to be about the unexpected things–things for which J has a hard time deciphering the best appropriate reaction. Because of J’s severe anxiety, his brain registers all “unexpected and disruptive things” as something worthy of an emergency type response (aka meltdown). Last week I wrote about how that gets better over time–and it definitely has. But this week had some unexpected and disruptive elements to it that J didn’t appreciate, (and didn’t always respond to in the best way). Still, he’s had worse responses, and we did finish the week with some…
