We Go With Him

Unremarkable Can Be Remarkable

 

Somewhat unusually, Charlie has been doing quite a bit of sleeping during this winter break, taking a nap following a morning bike ride and lunch. Perhaps he's finally doing 'the teenage thing' and succumbing to his body's need for sleep and more sleep after months of dutifully rising early to catch the 7.30am schoolbus? A bit of cocooning in the winter? 

Tonight, Friday night (and a Friday when it's been far warmer -- nearing 50 degrees F) is the first time -- even after some 15 miles total of bike riding and two good=paced run-walks -- that he was been able to sleep as 2am nears. As there is no school to have to wake up for, not sleeping is not such a big deal.

Come to think of, this winter break, though with the requisite bouts of anxiety in extremis, has been relatively not so nerve-wrecking. That unexpected break after the October 29 snowstorm somewhat readied us. Plus, while he's still often anxious to go out (even if that's not the best idea at the moment), Charlie has been doing better than he has in years with just sort of hanging around home, sometimes using his iPad, sometimes pacing through the rooms. 

That is, all the sleeping aside, it's been an unremarkable winter break -- which, in its own way, is quite remarkable.

The Urge For Flight

 

We stayed entirely local on Thursday for bike rides and rides in the car. Charlie requested otherwise in the afternoon and was very crestfallen, and then cheered up and had a great bide ride and trip to get some groceries (including sushi).

Jim and I speculated, perhaps Charlie's frequent requests to go for rides (that, as on Wednesday, he sometimes gets upset in the midst of), is from a need for 'fight or flight' -- from feeling agitated and wanting to go, run, get outa here, which? (Which is a very bad feeling to have when you're in the confines of the backseat of a car.)

 

Boy of Lots and Lots of Feelings

Jim took my parents to the airport on Wednesday morning and, before and after, Charlie had the usual, somewhat messy, struggles he has had, before an excellent cold morning bike ride and in the evening while were in the drive-thru lane of our local McDonalds, just as Jim was paying for a meal Charlie had asked for.

It really makes me wonder, how can anyone have ever said that autistic children and persons are 'withdrawn into the self' and feel no emotion? Charlie feels the most of all and expresses what he feels directly.

Inbetween, Charlie had his yearly physical and did ultra-fabulous, I'm not making that up. He had a full examination with the nurse practitioner who's been seeing him for years, after getting his stats (he's 68 1/2 inches, 143 pounds) by a young nurse who was my size (not quite 60 inches). He followed all the nurse practitioner's directions when he had his eyes, ears, reflexes checked, his heartbeat and pulse checked. He smiled, too.

Love and autism, all the time.

 

Staying Local

 

The break from school has meant we've been spending some time 'just hanging' at home, time Charlie seems to be enjoying instead of always being on the go. He likes to watch my mom cook and has joined my dad in that great activity known as 'sitting on the couch and thinking.' Knowing that Charlie might be 'on edge' as my parents are leaving on Wednesday, Jim and I made a point of suggesting that we 'stay local' for bike rides instead of hopping in the car and heading out to the horse country, as Charlie had asked in the morning.

Just past 9pm, we heard thump, thump, thump and found Charlie crying, sitting on his bed. He said 'walk, walk'; we said we would after a half-hour. In the past, we would have gone right out but the old theory, that exercise itself soothes, has been in need of modification as sometimes running distraught out the door has meant trouble.

Charlie kept asking to go out for the first 15 minutes, then started yawning. He had something to drink and had no objections to a gentle suggestion to go to bed; to stay in the safe locality of our house.

Meg in the Bushes

 

Meg is the name of a leash-less dog who appeared, rummaging in the bushes, just before Jim and Charlie were about to get on their bikes for a bike trail ride in Jersey horse country on Monday. Charlie did not see her at first, then he did.

He kept his right eye on Meg while shifting just so subtly to the left as she glanced in his direction. Then he got on the bike and, with his eye still on her (Meg was good-sized), Charlie pedaled off behind Jim and I heard a woman's voice calling 'Meg! Meg! Meg!'

Charlie may never entirely get over his wariness of dogs, but he's learning to manage it.

 

Doing Christmas Charlie's Way

Yellow jackets were still in order for the two bike rides of Christmas but it's actually been positively balmy here with temperatures in 40s F/8 C, especially as a year ago we had one of those candidates-for-snowstorms-of-the-century on December 26.

 

Charlie pedaled vigorously and enjoyed the rides, despite sniffles and a cough that, along with two fierce bouts of crying the day before, led us to conclude, he must have a cold and/or a sore throat. This supposition was reinforced  by Charlie (1) sleeping in past 11 am (after briefly getting up before 8am) on Sunday; (2) napping in the afternoon after bike ride #1; and (3) going to bed at 7pm and sleeping soundly.

Maybe, too, he really just needed to 'refresh his batteries' after the Stresses/Changes in Routine of the Holidays, not to mention a bit of weather on the wild side and just a lot of too much.

My mom and dad got dim sum and noodles for lunch and Charlie helped himself to most of the container of chicken chow fun (once known as 'brown noodles' -- almost all the major 2+ word items of Charlie's vocabulary have a color word in them).

Charlie didn't care for either of these foods pictured below, homemade cranberry bread and store-bought 'Phoenix claws' (= chicken feet) that, my dad assured us, were terrible and not because they're chicken feet. (But the noodles and other dim sum were very good.)

After sleeping off a good lunch and a second local bike ride during which many people called out 'Merry Christmas!', Charlie asked for one of his favorites, a burrito. We had had a feeling that he would ask for this and, too, that we would have to address the tricky issue of telling him the store was 'closed' --one of those potentially loaded words for Charlie.

Jim and I decided that the best thing to do was, rather than confuse Charlie further with lots of language and explanations -- when he hears that such-and-such a place is closed, he seems to have some cognitive dissonance in hearing the name of the place (meaning that we're going to go to it) along with the word 'closed' (meaning that we won't have access to it) -- we all got in the white car and drove to the burrito place.

In previous years, knowingly driving Charlie to a store or restaurant that we know would be closed would have been more than ill-advised. But in the past several months, Charlie has been handling seeing that the door of said place won't open and repeating 'closed' after us as we point to a 'closed' sign in the window. Harder for him is hearing us say, while still at home, that X is 'closed' or that we can't really go to 'Y' now -- better that he see it for himself.

The burrito place (and the entire plaza it was in) was indeed dark when we drove by, as was every Golden Arches we passed. Jim asked Charlie if he'd like to go to the one fast-food franchise we knew would be open on a major holiday (because we went to it last year). Charlie said 'yes' so off we went and, instead of a penny, we got this in change:

A 2 cent euro piece from a Garden State Parkway McDonalds -- you never know who passed by earlier.

Charlie didn't want to eat the two burgers and fries that we got him; I suspect the unusual circumstances of driving here and there to darkened stores and then heading up the Parkway played a part. He was glad to go back home, see Gong Gong and Po Po and dine on crackers and fruit for his Christmas dinner, and then head up to bed.

I made a neat pile of his presents by his shoes so Charlie would notice them when he's getting ready to go out for the next adventure.

 

Christmas Past, Christmas Present

Once upon a Christmas in California (click on photo to enlarge):

Christmas Eve day, 2011, in New Jersey:

Whatever you celebrate, wishing you as peaceful-easy-feeling as possible a day!

Dentist Success

Sometimes you have to just step back -- remembering the ER visits, the broken window in the pediatricians' waiting room, the screaming/wriggling/back-arching child you tried to hold down in your lap while the dentist (another dentist than the amazing one Charlie has now) tried to scrape his teeth -- and enjoy the moment.

No cavities, either.

 

Watching the Process

 

After shelling and deveining the prawns, my dad went to rest on the couch. Charlie stayed in the kitchen with my mom and watched as she cooked. At one point he sat on the counter to observe her stir-frying: I rather think he enjoys seeing the processes of cooking as much as he does eating the results.

 

In Which Charlie and I Have a Nightmare Before Xmas Experience

 

Jim picked up my parents at the airport and Charlie greeted them with a smile, unlike recent years when he has been in a super-high-anxiety state complete with tears when they've arrived.

After dinner, we went on a walk.

After a rest and some video watching, Charlie asked for another walk.

It was definitely warmish (it was the winter solstice) and, as we were walking, the wind really picked up and what leaves were left on the street flew in the air. I felt droplets and presumed the wind was shaking water from an earlier rain from the trees.

The droplets came down en masse.

The wind started howling, the rain fell in white sheets and Charlie put his hands over his ears and kept walking.

We walked past the house with several blow-up holiday decorations and reams of lights, the house with the snowman's head on a lamp post, the house with one reindeer. We had a brief respite from the rain under a breezeway by an elementary school then it was down a grassy knoll, past the playground, and into the muddy field with the trees swaying on the edges. The wind howled.

We turned onto a bike path by the field and headed home. A slowed down and Jim rolled down the window: 'Hi!'

Since we were only about 100 feet from home it was faster to just keep walking where my mom handed us towels.

Charlie dried off and went straight to bed.

We do this same walk day in and day out: Nice to have a bit of an adventure, once in a while.