Wow, does time ever fly! I'm still considering myself a changed blogger, even though it's been 6 weeks since I sat down to post. Where have I been? All over!
We took a family vacation to Ohio, which is one of my least favorite places. I think people from Michigan are hard-wired not to like Ohio, but we tolerate it to go to Cedar Point. It's been a few years since we took the boys there. Last year Garret really wanted to go, but he wasn't tall enough for most of the big rides so we skipped it. This year he was determined that we were going to go, and that he was going to be the king of the coasters.
I was nervous to have Braden A) in the car for that long, B) at a hotel for the night, and C)with that many people in a massive expanse of stimulation. But part of having one child with ASD and one without is balancing what they need. So we packed up the garden cart (What? How many wagons do you know that will tote around a 5'2" 115-pound kid?) and hit the road.
Like most sets of parents, my husband and I have very different outlooks on, well, darn near everything. ASD or no ASD, I need a plan when I travel. I need a list when I grocery shop, I need a to-do list to lead me through the day, and I certainly need an itinerary when I travel. My husband, on the other hand, likes to be (or at least feel) spontaneous. On this particular trip we left with no dog-sitter for our 7-week old puppies, no hotel reservation, and no amusement park tickets.
With my stress level through the roof, we drove for a few hours before stopping at a Wal-Mart to buy noise-reducing headphones (in our rush to meet the arbitrary "ass-in-seat time" laid out by my spontaneous husband, we left without ours). Braden was annoyed until he saw the S-U-B-W-A-Y. That helped us make up time, so we grabbed lunch there.
When we got to the hotel where we wanted to stay, we crossed our fingers while Daddy went in to see if there was a room available. We waited almost an hour in the van (and not patiently, I might add). I was cursing the spontanaiety all the while. After half an hour, Braden was hanging by a thread. Garret had the great idea to put in the Sesame Street tape, and we sang and danced around in our seats until Daddy returned with a room key. Phew!
In case you're concerned, a great friend agreed to check on the puppies regularly while we were gone. She's so great, in fact, that she not only cleaned up after them, fed them, and played with them, but also gave them a bath! Thanks, Amanda!
So with those two BIG issues checked off my list, I was starting to relax. Of course, we were staying at an indoor waterpark in close proximity to an amusement park. The only thing more annoying than my kids? Other people's kids!
Braden was excited, though, and we got into our suits and hit the waterpark. Once we got in there and tried to go on a slide, he changed his mind. Now we've been to our fair share of waterparks, and I know for a fact that he LOVES the slides. Part of his brand of ASD includes a mess of anxiety (that's the part he gets straight from me, truth be told). As his mom, I've become very familiar (and comfortable) with pushing through anxiety with him. What does that mean? Well, in this instance it means he was going to go down a slide if it killed both of us.
Mind you, this boy is about 3 inches shorter than me and 20 pounds lighter. He's also a million times stronger! So he's decided that he's not going to go and I've decided he is going to go, and we're about to work that disagreement out on three flight of stairs. Judging by the looks I was getting, we were quite a sight. He's also big enough now that he gets looks. (I hate that part. Like most moms I know, I'd be happy to carry that burden of judgment so he never needed to feel it. I tell myself that he doesn't feel it so I can keep going. If I thought he knew...well, you know).
Anyway, we're navigating the indoor waterpark staircases. He's vehemently shaking his head "no," and saying, "help," over and over. And I'm prodding him up the stairs and telling him that we're going to go down the slide in the yellow boat and that it will be fun. When we made it to the top, I was struck by the scene in front of me that I'd been too distracted to notice. A dad had his three- or four-year old daughter in a bear hug and picked her up into the raft with him as she whimpered. Those were the days! Daddy and Garret got into their raft and waved as they headed down the tube.
Braden made one last effort to go back down the stairs before I dragged him into our raft. I tried to distract him with the overhead red and green lights that signaled the operator when it is safe for us to go. When the light turned green, he squeezed the handles on the raft. In the dark of the ride, I heard a shriek and then a giggle. When we stepped out of the raft, Braden grabbed my hand and took off running. I stopped him and said, "What do you want?" He let go of my hand and signed, "Yellow boat." Mom-1, Anxiety-0.
