I have had the frankly terrible topic of this post about facilitated communication on my mind for the past two weeks and finally wrote something about it Monday afternoon while Charlie was taking an early evening nap.
He and Jim had had a fine ride on the bike trail but, as they came back, I could hear Charlie crying. He dozed off in the car on the way home, woke up for lunch but ate little, and was edgy back in the house until he appeared on the stairs with his swimsuit saying 'Yes.'
It was too late to drive to our usual beach, plus Jim and I are still having 'what to do with a swimmer boy like Charlie' discussions. Then, as Charlie loaded his boogie board and the beach bag into the car, Jim remembered a lake in a state park that we had gone to years ago. It's not even a half-hour from our house down the Garden State Parkway and, with a smiling Charlie, there we went.
No boogie boards are allowed at the lake and Charlie handled leaving his in the car with aplomb. He ran right to the little beach and into the water, wading out with Jim to the rope boundary.
Charlie didn't swim but seemed content to roam about in the water, which was quite warm. I ventured out too and Jim had a nice chat with a mother whose 7-year-old like-Charlie son was doing dives and flips in the water, as Charlie had once done when he was younger (and smaller).
Charlie wanted to go after about 40 minutes and it was an easy trip home. He had dinner and then went up the stairs to sleep around 7pm.
After he woke just before 9pm, I took a red marker and X'd out another day on his calendar. Just one day now, I said.
'No school tomorrow,' said Charlie. Meaning, 'I don't want to go to school.'
Yes, just what we figured he'd say before going back to summer school.
One more day it is.
(Yes, it's going to be another late late night here. But I'm getting rather used to such.)