Blast to the Past

This picture was sent to me this morning by the woman who runs our church creche, Christine, passed on to her by her granddaughter Emma. The picture was taken at least three years ago...and yet I bet you can guess who it is! :)

What a cutie, and still the happiest boy in the world on the swings!

Holiday/Lenten Reflections

Yesterday was the first day of Easter holidays. Traditionally the first day of the holidays is the worst for me--I have high expectations and spend several days coming down to the earth where my kids are at...then by the end of the week we're all at ground zero and can have fun for a few days before they go back to school. However, yesterday was ok, it was the day before--Palm Sunday--which pushed me to the limit.

For Palm Sunday, the routine at church is different, in that we go up front to get our palm fronds, and then walk round the church a few times with them while singing. Turns out that for a child with Autism this is very difficult. Brian was at home, sleeping off a cold bug, so I was on my own. I had Caleb behind me pretending his palm frond was an airplane (and making the accompanying airplane noises), and Adam beside me hitting his head, crying, and trying to get back to our seat the whole time. I contemplated running out the front door, but we stuck it out. Adam sat on the floor and rocked through the dramatic reading of the Gospel, which was fine. He is, after all, who he is, and we were listening to the story of Jesus being killed for being who He is.

Then we headed to coffee, where it went downhill. I think it was Caleb grabbing my arm with a cup of hot coffee in my hand that started us off, but from that moment on I spent the day arguing with him, having to resort to serious disciplinary measures twice in painful moments of necessity. Argh, I hate those moments, where you have to react instantly and then spend the rest of the day wondering if you did the right thing.

That evening, the choir was singing a few pieces of Lenten music at church. I decided it was crucial that I not only get out of the house, but have some time to reflect on the day and on Lent in peace. The music was beautiful, though terrifyingly difficult for me, and to be honest I spent much of it (hope Dr Morrison doesn't read this!!) mouthing the words and not singing at all! But the silence was therapeutic, and the message about Job reminded me of the point and place of suffering in our lives, not that I could even begin to call my Sunday "suffering". After I got home I still had time to mend hearts with Caleb before he went to sleep, which was truly the sweetest part of the whole day.

I'd like to think that if I sailed through Lent without any crises of soul it wouldn't be what it's supposed to be. I spent the day seriously doubting my ability to be a parent, to help Adam cope with life, to discipline right, to make good decisions, to sing in a choir, to do this thing called Life at all. But the whole point of Job, and Lent, and life, is not that we do things perfectly, but that we are becoming who we are supposed to be. Now that I think about it, Palm Sunday set me up well to already be at ground zero on Monday, and have what turned out to be our best first day of the holidays in a while. So maybe I am learning after all.

Just another day in our circus

Yesterday was a typical day. Believe it or not we have lots of them. The weather here has been dire the last few days, as in grey, foggy, damp and cold. We had nothing to do yesterday afternoon so I took the boys to KC Kangaroo's. This is an indoor soft play place here, great for killing a couple of hours on a cold Thursday afternoon. Great for relaxing with a magazine or book while the boys get hot and sweaty running around the little obstacle course.

Or at least it used to be.

I love those moments when I casually look up from the glossy pages before my eyes and see Adam climbing up the netting around the outside of the ball pit. The netting that is meant to keep kids in the ball pit. I scurry over to the other side of the room and we engage in a frantic battle of wills. "No, you will not climb up there, come down!!" "Oh yes I will mom, see my leg going over? He he!!"

He thinks it's fantastic, and quite frankly, so do I. For a long time motivation to do things was pretty much absent in Adam, so anytime he wants to do something I see it as good. Even something he's not supposed to do which is, well, most of the time. He's also got some amazing physical capabilities that I love to see in action. Even if it gets me into trouble. Which it does, well, most of the time!

Ever hear that theory that most people in the world can be divided into either rule keepers or rule breakers? Well, Adam is a rule breaker. I think this is because of both his Autism and because he's half his father. He doesn't know that you aren't supposed to climb the periphery netting...it's there and looks inviting, so why not? He doesn't know that food is supposed to go into your mouth and not be painted all over your face. He doesn't get that taking off your shoes and throwing them "at" people is a little uncouth. Or that gulping the communion wine at church is probably not going to be found funny by anyone other than his daddy and I (this one is true and should really be seen--every Sunday morning at 10:45, St Andrews Cathedral!)

It's tough, this balance between encouraging Adam to be who he is and try to get him to conform to social norms. Most of the time I don't care, and I'm proud that he is so effortlessly himself. Most of the time I love that people stare at him, or their eyes bug out at something he does, or I get told off for one of his little adventures. I'm happy to be the point person for Adam. The few times when I really do care, or I get cross with him for something, are more to do with me than with him anyway. I do occasionally get a fright for his safety, which is where I lament that he has no sense of danger. But this is not the same as breaking a social rule.

The thing that most people don't think about is how many limitations are already on his life, let alone that pesky little rule you are going to complain about to me. This is where I think social norms are more a communal corset that we force ourselves to wear, that nobody really even likes and that most of us wish we could sometimes cast away like Adam appears to do.

Adam is a good boy. Like all kids, and particularly those with disabilities, he does the best he can. If that's not good enough, then I can't really help you.

Oh, and maybe you should look away now!

Yesterday again

Yesterday. I always seem to be writing about yesterday. I'm chronically a day behind and playing catch-up is my favourite game! I suspect that the fact I'm sitting here right now, writing about something that happened yesterday, is probably also the reason why I won't have time later to write about something that happens today. Oh well, you live when you live and you write about it later...if I can remember it by then, that is!

Anyway...yesterday.

So my son has just moved to a new school: Mile End School in Aberdeen. Actually, two schools will be moving and merging: Beechwood and Mile End. The building they are moving to is brand new, but on the site of the old Beechwood, a special needs school. The old Mile End school is down the street, but will soon be gone. The Beechwood students moved to the new Mile End last week, and the "old" Mile Enders will be moving over Easter. Confused yet?

Anyway, Beechwood is where Adam started his school career and has gone for the last eight months. In fact, he's only ever been in a special needs setting, so this move is probably scarier for me than for him. At Beechwood he was in a small pond of about 50 students. Now he will be in an ocean of 450 students. That's right, his school of 50 is merging with a school of 400. I think everyone is a little nervous! So far, though, the Headteacher, teachers, staff and parent council have done a wonderful job, and I can't say enough good about them.

Apparently, naming the new school posed quite a problem, one which I wasn't aware of until Friday. To me, the new name just means that I have to think of Adam as one of a bigger, wilder and more able group of people. I have to let him be part of a setting where I'm not sure he'll fit in or succeed, where he might well get lost. This is hard to do when he's been sheltered by the Beechwood name for so long. But I might as well get used to it: he's not a Beechwood student anymore, he's a Mile End student now.

We went to a fun day at the new school yesterday, organised for the annual Sports Relief charity. It was great, another (relatively) sunny day to explore the beautiful new school. Aberdeen city council put a lot into this school, partly because it's a flagship experiment in merging two such different populations. Yesterday was my first real experience of this experiment, since the schools have not physically merged yet.

Adam and his brother were exploring the soft play room when a group of "big" boys poured in. Suddenly Adam and Caleb were tiny and fragile, liable to be run over by their bigger Mile End counterparts. Despite my nervousness I enjoyed meeting the boys, and introduced them to Adam, telling them they'd be school mates after Easter. They seemed ok with that. One boy asked "is he disabled?" and I appreciated both the fact that he asked and that he was relatively sensitive about it. My only answer was 'yes'. I'll have to let that be enough for now.

So Adam will be part of this crowd, the race-running, football-playing, rope-skipping, Irn-bru drinking crowd. It's exciting, and scary.

Immediately after the fun day we went to a local church where a Causeway Prospects group is now meeting every third Saturday. Causeway Prospects is a group who seeks to bring people with disabilities into the church and do church with them. It's great, but what a polar opposite world to the one we had just left!!

We had a great time being church together, being noisy and real together. Still, though, I find that I have a hard time letting go--when the leader says "feel free to move around and make noise", I still find it hard to let myself relax. I'm so programmed to follow a certain set of rules, and expect Adam to follow them, that even when they are removed I'm still constrained. Luckily though there are others there who don't have that problem, and I'm hoping to learn as much as I can from them.

Well, that's it for now. More tomorrow about yesterday, I guess.

sb