Today we went to a park with the J-Man’s classmates and their families. It was an absolutely beautiful day here, and there were a lot of other families there soaking it in with us. The J-Man loved the swinging – as always – but he really didn’t care one whit that he needed to share the swing with other kids. I took him out of the swing, and the rest of the couple of hours we were there went completely downhill from there.
None of the other playground equipment (and there’s a lot of cool stuff there) mattered to him; the paved nature trail had zero appeal; I could barely get him to sit on the bench and eat anything. He walked with one of the teachers along the trail for a few minutes, but after that, it was seemed pretty much like one unending melodrama with some occasional fits thrown in for good measure. If I wasn’t holding or carrying him, he kept whining and crying and even sometimes screaming while trying to climb all over me.
If this were a one-time thing, I could deal with that. But nearly every time we go on anything resembling a ‘play date’, it goes down like this. He’s big, he’s strong, and when he’s singularly focused on something, he’s almost immovable. When he’s in social situations, all that gets amplified 10 times. Overall, it’s getting bit by bit easier to reel him back in when he’s overloaded, but in situations like today, once he’s lost, he’s pretty much gone, and it feels like the battle for survival is on.
It’s not any one single event like today that gets me; it’s the cumulative effect of them over the weeks and months. It makes me viscerally aware of how hard things are for him. I know that sounds ridiculous given our daily lives and our constant awareness of where his challenges are. But after a while, you get into a groove, you have a great week of progress, you start feeling on top of things, and then you get one of these giant reality checks.
We got home, decompressed a little bit, I ate, and then I took the car keys and told Mary I was going to run errands, despite the fact she wasn’t officially off work for two more hours. Yeah, I was a total, selfish ass. But I felt like if I didn’t get out of the house by myself right then, I was going to completely fall apart.
I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what my own personal meltdown was about. This is about all I could come up with – I want one, normal, somewhat calm play date where I can spend more than 10% of my time sitting down and watching him play from a bench while he explores the different playground equipment and can play for a few minutes at a time on his own. I could talk to other parents for a couple of minutes without having to be holding him while I do that. The rest of the time I’d be overjoyed to guide him through the various parts of the playground and explore them with him.
I guess in other words, I want a ‘normal’ day at the park like the other parents get. It’s selfish, unfair, and short-sighted on my part and completely missing the larger point of life, but for the moment, I don’t really care.
Right now, these sorts of outings just feel like physically-exhausting ju-jitsu. Some combination of him yanking on my arm or some wrong move on my part pulled something way out in my left shoulder. If I turn it wrong, it feels like someone is stabbing me. Really, this is probably just the latest of a half-dozen other times I’ve pulled that same part of my shoulder over the last couple of months. It’s starting to become like the ‘magic thumb’, my now almost unsprainable right thumb after having been injured so many times.
I know my nearly unbroken string of 18-hour days going for weeks now has left my body susceptible to these sorts of things. But I realize I also tend to avoid these sorts of social/play opportunities because they end up being so physically – and of course, mentally and emotionally – hard for me.
And I know all this is really about my own personal and emotional stuff, and it’s something we as parents have to be aware of and taking steps to work through, which I am. This is a marathon, and marathoners know about taking care of their bodies and minds and pacing themselves through the miles. I’m completely aware that I’m terrible at that, but that’s an issue for another day.
To keep with the running metaphor, I’m pretty much in a constant state of bonk these days. I realize we have a lot going on and a baby due any minute – enough to peg out anyone’s engine – but like we do with the J-Man, sometimes you have to sense how things are starting to go out of control and take steps to calm life down before everything melts.
The old saying “it’s a walk in the park” is meant to express that something is both easy to do and has an assured outcome. If there’s a metaphor farther away from what today felt like, it’s hard to imagine what it might be.
I’ll do my self-indulgent, pity thing a while longer and move on. Writing this out helps. I still do dream of one of those walks in the park, though.
Posts that hopefully are similar:
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- Holiday School Party – Things Worth a Thousand Words Edition
- Trying to Get Perspective
- When the Only Thing Routine is the Lack of Routine
- Special Ed and Symbolism
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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
Tim acts like he was being selfish to go and run errands, but I was more than happy to hang with the J-man while he was gone. I have finished up most everything at work and nobody is trying to hand me anything new because of my upcoming leave… so I was sitting around doing not a lot anyway. I just brought my computer downstairs and watched the J-man run around, occasionally squishing into the new recliner with him.
Tim also doesn’t mention the several times lately where I’ve just walked upstairs after something happening with the J-man, and announced that I’m taking a nap, and that some other adult in the house will have to go down and hang with J-man. Parenting is hard work for anyone, and I think Tim is being too hard on himself.
He’s a great dad. I hope for a walk in the park someday too…
I can totally relate. I have semi-regular meltdowns of my own, usually after an episode like this. I really think you’d have to be superhuman not to.
Playgrounds are always tricky for us. It seems to accentuate how DIFFERENT my child is. My daughter is five and it just kills me to see two and three year olds running circles around her (literally and figuratively). And Heaven forbid I should TRY to get her on some playground equipment (except for the swing, of course). A total screaming meltdown — for both of us.
So lately I’ve just given up on trying to make HER “fit” the playground. She just sits in the mulch and stims with a stick or piece of straw, and I just read a book and enjoy the day. Everyone’s happy.
when James was younger, I avoided these kinds of situations like the PLAGUE..he was “mainstreamed” in school and it was hard on ALL of us (teachers and myself alike) to even get James so he could play well during recess…in 2nd grade he had “special” recess and lunch when he and just a select few other kids would go out, so it wasn’t the total chaos of 1/2 the school outside…his kindergarten teacher went so far as to tell me (i HATED her and she definately did NOT care for me) that James couldn’t go on any field trips unless I went along too…James is now 10 and can handle small trips to the playground…however they are NEVER organized with another group of kids, unless it is through the special program he attends…even with the special program, he has quite a few meltdowns and issues interacting with the other kids, all kids similar to himself at that…it IS a marathon…it gets a little easier over time, however I can’t say how much so…Saturday my sister got married..James found himself sitting in the van by himself so he could decompress twice because he just worked himself up so much….I have found the van works great when we are at gatherings like weddings and birthday parties…it’s a place that is familiar and I know is safe (no keys in the van with him and he can’t lock me out) and it gives him that time of quiet that he needs to put himself back together to be able to function (at least on a basic level) socially….we homeschool now, i just got so tired of the constant battles with the staff of the schools to REALLY take in to consideration what is going on with James, aside from his “behavior” and how they couldn’t get him to “toe the line” so to say…my advice, take each day at a time…worrying and thinking too much about how things were or are going to be will just sap the strength right out of you…
The thing I hold on to is the fact that Caden doesn’t feel different yet. Other people see it with the constant hand flapping and I used to get annoyed by the looks but I just don’t care anymore. I would stay in with him because it was easier but now I go out as often as possible. He is having a great time and I hope he never feels different. I have had to go back to using the stroller when we go out but let him loose at the park. Short spurts work best with him and myself to be honest. I am 37 weeks pregnant now and if we go without the stroller he sits and I carry. He is a big boy and is quite heavy so the stroller will suffice for now. Now the looks I get there..oh, boy! he is 3 in July but is the size of a 5 year old.
The thing is if I exhaust myself I am overwhelmed more easily and that is not good for anyone.
I would love to get Caden into preschool but still using diaper and insists Mom feed him still. I was told he must be potty trained and feeding himself. It would be nice to have a wee break though and for someone else to teach him a few things but I will wait for now.
So my advice Tim is don’t overwhelm yourself..small spurts will work too. When you said hours I thought wow, someone has A LOT of energy..lol.
@Ecki – You hit on a really important point. As much as we at least attempt to avoid comparisons with other kids, it happens, and we don’t often care to admit it. At least I don’t like to. There are plenty of times I don’t think twice about it – like at the store or the mall – and others where I get a bit smug and say, “our kids are the most well-behaved here!” (see our museum trip post) Then there are those times I’m like, why can’t we just chill and play and have a bit of non-dramatic fun outside with some friends? There’s nothing wrong with him or me or any of us. It’s the reminder that we are ‘other’ that is hard for me lately.
Honestly if he had just stimmed on some mulch I think I would have been cool with that, though I like to try to get him to do some other things when we’re out vs. what he can just do at home. The other kids – and there were quite a few of them at the park that day – understandably wanted their turns on the swing, but that was all he wanted to do. We have a swing at home too. “Let’s try something new” didn’t seem to on the agenda on Friday.
Stuff happens, and we move on. Small steps.
@Jamie – We are lucky to have a really good school system here, and he goes to what we think is the best school we have with the best teachers we could ever ask for. I know this isn’t the case for a lot of families. To have that in our lives sets the tone for everything else. It’s such a huge burden off our shoulders, and even more important than that, he’s really thriving there. He is in a separate pre-K classroom with 7 other kids on various parts of the spectrum, but they do get chances to dip their toes in the waters with other kids at the elementary school. They are amazing with helping kids mainstream or not in whatever way is most appropriate to where each child is. I am thankful every day that he’s at that school.
The teachers – special ed or not – look out for them, and what’s even better is that their attitude toward our children sets a positive tone for all the students there. To watch the students from all the grades sell candy last fall and work hard to raise money for our local autism society was a real joy for us. Some of the older kids who help out when our pre-K has PE often say hi to the J-Man and the other kids if we’re in the school lobby when they come in. Many of the students at his school have a lot to teach some of the adults I’ve met.
We’ve resisted becoming ‘van people’, but I suspect we’ll end up there someday. The idea of a decompression chamber has a lot of appeal. Another parent I know swears by hers too.
I’m usually good about pacing myself with all this and in general stay upbeat about things. I think the combination of all this, the baby coming, work pressure, and the general chaos of our lives has really worn me down of late. It’s just a matter of getting up, brushing myself off, and moving on ahead. A pity party every now and then helps I think, though.
@Shannon – We’re definitely all about the stroller. The J-Man is getting pretty close to outgrowing our jogging stroller, though. (feet are perilously close-looking to the front wheel even with the guard on) But he’ll sit in there often for a good hour while we walk around the neighborhood. Of anything we might do outside, I think that’s the most carefree for both of us.
He’s also quite the ‘carry me’ kid in public. I’m about 225 lbs and 6′ 3″ and quite definitely not pregnant, so lugging him for several minutes at a stretch isn’t that bad on most days. One big issue of late, though, is that my back has been giving me a terrible time, which makes not only the carrying (obviously) but most all the corralling and whatnot that we do out in public very trying.
You make an important point that I routinely ignore. I regularly run myself ragged to near exhaustion. I’m not sure how to do things another way, but I need to learn. Some things are just getting unsustainable for me physically. And when I’m physically struggling, everything else goes completely to crap for me.
I think when/if the day comes when he says or communicates something to us about feeling upset and feeling different from other kids, that will be emotionally wrenching for us. I feel like we need to start now working on ways to frame these things in positive ways that he can understand. Whether I’m over-reacting… well, that’s always likely.
He’ll always be the perfect star in our world, and my hope is that he grows to see himself that same way. I’m regularly all about being different as being a good thing, and often preferable. We just want to focus on positive messages and reinforcing that with him at every opportunity.
You may have told me this before, but if so, I forgot. Do you live in the U.S.? If so, diapers and feeding and all that have nothing to do with getting into a preschool program with your local school system. If your child has a ‘qualifying disability’, then after age 3 your county has to by federal law provide him with educational, therapy, etc. services regardless. However, this doesn’t apply to schools not run by the county (i.e., private schools). If you don’t live in the U.S., I’m completely ignorant of how the rest of the world works. Honestly, I barely know how it works in my county.
Good luck with the rest of your pregnancy! Mary’s hanging in there strong. I’ll send you an e-mail as soon as I can.
@ magicdrgn – Sometimes I feel like we should take notes on how our kids have meltdowns so we can learn how to have proper meltdowns for ourselves. They seem to be both good and efficient at it. The J-Man blows through one and then goes on like the happiest guy on earth while I’m still pissed off, biting my fingernails, and wallowing in self-indulgent pity.
I think we get really messed up when it feels like the choice is between attempting to be superhuman or allowing the world to fall to crap. Is that always really what the choice is between? Likely not, but there are occasions when I think it’s probably close, though. I don’t know.