We Go With Him

It Ended With a Dance Party

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No camp' was the word from Charlie on Friday morning; he instead asked to go out to Jersey horse country and cast us his woebegone look. I made him some breakfast -- apples and oatmeal -- and he didn't eat much but he kept it down.

We explained, he could go to camp for a little while as it was the last day and say his good-byes and then we could ride bikes.

'Ride bikes,' said Charlie. We loaded up the bikes and helmets plus Charlie's bags for camp and were off. Charlie did not object to being dropped off and Jim and I went straight to the country library where, being us (yeah, two professors), we spent too many minutes trying to figure out how to put the bike lock my aunt had sent us on the bikes before going inside.

Charlie's counselor called at 12.35 pm to say he was having a great time at the dance party doing 'YMCA.' We went to get him and he bounded out as two other counselors told me he'd also had a fine time doing the cha-cha slide; I speculated that Charlie must have done 'YMCA' at music class at school or elsewhere (nope, not at home). We thanked the camp staff profusely.

Then -- how else to celebrate? -- Jim drove here and there and we came to the far end of the bike trail he and Charlie like to ride on. Off they went, Charlie querulous at first but nothing that 16 miles abide could not help him to cycle through.

Good thing they went so far as later in the evening it poured torrentially. Charlie and Jim were actually hankering for another bike ride but there's certainly tomorrow. Camp, though, as we told Charlie won't be till next year. I can't say if he's looking forward to it but we're certainly glad he's had his first try at it this week, and it's been good.

Under the Weather, and Telling Us In So Many Words and Ways

A 2am wake-up on Thursday, unpacking the bag with his swimsuit and towel, some strong no's at the mention of 'camp': Via all these, Charlie was trying to tell us that he wasn't' up to camp on Thursday. We kept him home, a decision proved fortuitous when Charlie had a severe bout of nausea in our kitchen and his crying at camp on Wednesday was explained. I suspect the swimming pool is the culprit as Charlie tends inevitably to get some water into his system and to suffer from the results.

Queasy stomach or not, Charlie was still up to riding his bike, though he did request a shorter ride than usual on the bike trail. (His slightly glum expression in the photo above attests to his not feeling 100 %.)

By Thursday evening (post-nausea event in the kitchen) he was smiling and lively as usual though still saying 'no' about camp. I suppose he might be associating it with his queasy stomach, alas? We'd like him to say good-bye on Friday as that's the last day the camp is open. We'll see what Charlie communicates to us Friday morning.

Frankly, I'm pretty pleased that Charlie, in the ways he could, let us know he was under the weather.

Camp No Camp Yes Camp

We had thought we'd pick up Charlie at 2pm from camp on Wednesday but a call from his counselor at 12.30 led to us getting him about an hour later. He had started crying on the playground and shouting loudly, both of which we consider quite manageable compared to some other things. But I divined from the counselor's tone that Charlie was 'on edge,'so it was definitely best to get him.

Charlie wanted (as usual) a bike ride soon as we got home and he and Jim did their new route on the bike path. Then Charlie asked to eat but just poked at his food and wanted to go back to the fireman's carnival in the next town. It was too early and we went through a few rounds of 'no, no, no' about another bike ride before Charlie said 'yes bike' and back I went to the shed to retrieve the bikes.

That actually wasn't the final ride of the day. Charlie was a few shades more tense than usual as we drove to the carnival. But he had a big smile coming down the slide and on the ferris wheel, even though it was a bit of a balky ride as a young girl couldn't make up her mind to ride it or not and went one turn with her face buried on her mother's arm before getting off.

Charlie requested ride #3 once we were home and Jim was, as ever, game. Once back, he made up for not eating much earlier, devouring rice and Chinese sausage, a pack of sushi that was meant for his lunch (so I'll have to get up early tomorrow and make his lunch) and some fresh fruit. He saw a box of brownie mix and wanted to make those, so we did. Then he went straight to bed, though he got up a few times to make sure Jim was sitting on the couch: Charlie has been insisting on knowing exactly where we are and that we're not going anywhere.

When he has that on-and-off wanting to eat plus his crying and earlier distress, we've come to think he has some kind of stomach pain. We've been doing better getting him to drink a good amount of liquids and varying his diet some. Exercise also helps; that third bike ride was necessary to 'work out the kinks.'

As we've learned, Charlie definitely has a 'honeymoon' period. The third day is usually about when he starts to feel a little less satisfied about things or, perhaps more accurately, starts to communicate that he feels that way (call it the lag). I'm thinking it'll be best to pick him up around 1 pm on Thursday as we'd rather keep his camp experience successful and shorter.

Around 9.30pm Charlie called down the stairs 'yes camp.' Perhaps he'd just needed the whole day to work out that, yes, camp's ok.

 

Why the iPad is Charlie's AAC Device

Charlie started Tuesday morning by getting dressed in his swimsuit, putting the boogie board in the back of the white car, and telling us 'no camp!'. Or rather, 'NO CAMP.'

As usual, verbal requests to remove the boogie board from the car were met with more no's; showing up to camp with a boogie board seemed like a bad portent. We thought we'd wait Charlie out.

Then I showed him the photo I'd taken last week of the camp. Charlie said 'camp,' pulled the boogie board out of the car, put it in the basement, took off his bathing suit, put on his clothes, put the bathing suit upstairs (I've been sending in a different one than he wears to the beach), got into the car.

I've been thinking that Temple Grandin's notion of 'thinking in pictures' quite applies to Charlie and, too, that the iPad, even without any special apps, has become a de facto augmentative communication device for him. A single photo can be a more effective way of telling him something that a messy mass of words. And, the iPad really just the right size for him to hold and to look at.

Another example of Charlie's very visual thinking processes: When we dropped him off, he insisted we get back into the white car and drive off: In order to have the image of us in our places in the car in his head, so he'd be able to visualize where we were until we picked him up?

Unfortunately, I had to get out of the car and go find someone from the staff as the gate out of the camp was locked. Charlie raced right over when he caught sight of me and stood with his face propped in his hands: "Mom white car. Mom white car sit."I did so as soon as I could and someone came, opened the gate, and off we drove. We waited till 1pm this time to pick Charlie up, extending his time at camp by a half-hour. He had a second good day, doing volleyball, art and swimming.

And he didn't race out quite so fast on hearing we were there.

After an afternoon of bike rides and a trip to firemen's carnival the next town over, Charlie was very ready for bed and asleep before 10 pm.

Camp is -- as Charlie is discovering -- is like school and not like school. It's all activity, much of it outdoors, none of the sitting at a table and having to 'stay on task' that he dutifully gets himself to do, and sometimes is just not into. Charlie likes APE at school and going for walks and runs and has been slowly warming up to doing art. Camp involves all that (and music too) and just that -- not a bad deal (as he's finding out).

Charlie Goes to Camp

Charlie's first day ever of day camp went quite well. It's been a long time since we left him with anyone besides his teachers at school so him going to camp really is quite a big deal.

He was eager to hop in the white car in the morning -- Charlie does like knowing there is some place to go to -- and then issued a big 'NO' as Jim and I said our good-byes at the camp. We have learned by now that the best way to handle good-byes is fast and neat so off we went to the county library.

We got a call from Charlie's counselor around 11am; she said he was fine and had done bowling and an art project and was in the swimming pool. The water was cold as it's an outdoor pool and it has been raining buckets so apparently Charlie was not terribly thrilled. Then it started to pour and everyone had to vacate the pool. Charlie, being a veteran of in-the-rain bike rides, didn't mind the rain (plus he was already wet from being in the pool, of course). We drove back to the camp at around 12.30 pm and, Charlie came bolting out of one of the camp buildings and ran to the car, upon hearing we were there to pick him up.

He'd had no mishaps and the plan is to try to pick him up a half-hour later Tuesday. I'm sure some may think we're being over-protective and nervous but I'd rather be that way: Charlie really have some serious behavior trouble and the idea is to keep camp as positive as possible and for him to feel that he's successful at it.

Soon as we got home -- a return to normality? -- Charlie asked for a bike ride. It was the first of two, with a monsoonish rain inbetween complete with a very loud clap of thunder and lightning. Lag set in after the events of the day and sounds of unhappiness could be heard from Charlie's room. But by 6pm the skies were brightening and Charlie too, and off he and Jim went again, Jim intent on having Charlie try a new bike trail through our town.

Charlie indeed followed Jim onto the new trail which goes through some very wooded areas and past a levy at a local park which a far smaller (7 or 8 years old) Charlie, still learning to handle his bike, once fell down. He'd been twisting and toying with his bike in the gravel as Jim rode. Jim then got the scare of his life when he turned to find no Charlie, only to hear a little voice calling 'Daddy, Daddy': Charlie was lying with his bike on him, in, um, a tributary of a local river, but it was very shallow. Needless to say, it was Jim to the rescue and Charlie, after getting a big hug and some of the dirt and debris brushed off, was back on his bike.

He's always indeed been a trooper.