Tuesday's Reminder

Michael and I had some adventures Tuesday and these reminded me of how far he has come and how far we have to go. Running or wandering is a behavior of some autistic kids. I didn't know Michael was autistic when he would do this. Between the ages of three and six, he would be standing one minute and then dart off the next. He was so small and quick that I would panic and try to get him. I held his hand going into Walmart until he was nine because I was afraid he would run. (I won't bore you with the details of his running adventures of the past because that was a nightmare part of our journey and I want to forget it. It was hell, pure and simple.) Since then, he hasn't attempted to run away so I had thought that stage was over. Anyway, yesterday we went to visit my grandmother and Michael has not been there in years. I pulled in the driveway, we got out, I went to the house and he went the opposite direction. He went to the front yard, to the back, toward the street and up a neighbor's front porch and knocked on the door. All of this took two minutes. Now, why is this bad? He is eleven years old, he looks fairly "normal," he is almost as tall as me and would have freaked out anyone who answered the door because he cannot have a "normal" conversation. (I will let you imagine what a stranger could do to him.) I finally got him into my grandmother's house, we visited a few minutes then left.

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We got home, I got out of the car and he took off around the house. There is a river behind our house that he hasn't bothered with in years. Monday he went to the river and there he went yesterday. Monday he was careful and tiptoed into the water about ankle deep. (Mind you, the water has boaters and gets deeper quickly.) There is a big tree branch in the water and he was fooling with it. There is also a very small rotten dock. He inched to the tree branches then got out and tried the dock. He said, "Let's jump in!" I coaxed him down. Why am I worried? Several reasons: I cannot swim. If he got tangled in the tree and whatever is in the river, I can't get him out. Also, he has little fear. He finally came toward the house because he slipped and fell on the rocks and hurt his knee. The frustrating thing is that he is doing what most normal eleven year old boys would want to do and I want him to be able to do it. It makes me want to scream! I thought yesterday that summer vacation is going to be a nightmare. What a way to look at time off. We probably won't go to the beach this summer. We're redoing another bathroom and between the money and time, I don't think I can make plans. I am afraid to take him to the public pool because of past behavior. (Adults as well as his.) I would give anything to have a pool of our own but it is impossible with our yard. (Too uneven.) I hate to whine because most days are fine but I would like to have ONE DAY where I don't have to worry. I will only get it when I die and that is not an exaggeration. I'm sorry but that's depressing.

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I am trying to think of how to salvage summer vacation. I went so far as to see if there are any houses with pools that I can rent this summer here in town. Yes, pathetic. We haven't been to Manchester's outdoor pool. At least if the stangers there make fun of him or give him looks, I don't have to worry about seeing them again. Several well meaning teachers and adults have told me to get him out more, let him join a team. In the dreamland they live in, coaches want to play all kids and no one cares about winning. Also in this imaginary world, all adults and children are caring and mean well. In my real world, some family members look the other way instead of offering to help; some teachers blame us for Michael's odd behavior instead of realizing he has a disorder that none of us can help. Oh, and in even better news, the two girls who watch Michael so I can attend church are leaving for college so my spirtual growth and what keeps me going will be denied. Is God here with me? Of course. But it is nice to be able to meet with other believers. It will all work out. I would say I'm sorry for the rant but that is my life. Could it be worse? Yes, for sure. The one or two people who will read this, thank you for letting me vent. I love my family and especially my son. He does the best he can do so I don't blame him. It just gets hard sometimes.