Really? I should know better by now.
Yesterday at school, Howie fell down at recess and tore up his knee. According to the school nurse (and his aide who carried him off the playground, to the nurse’s office, to lunch and back to the nurse), it was bleeding pretty heavily, and understandably Howie was very upset. Every time they tried to come near him, he let out blood curdling screams (no pun intended). I picked him up just before noon and brought him home. To scream here.
Thanks to some incredible TLC from Tim, we were able to remove the band-aid to determine that it didn’t need stitches. Tim wrapped it up with gauze and tape to make a better feeling – and less sticky – bandage to protect it. Howie called it his “cast”.
He seemed in good spirits this morning, so we continued with our plans to attend our town’s “Day in the Park” celebration. It’s an annual event in our town park with music, food, games, crafts and lots of activities for the kids. This year, our town was having a birthday parade as well.
And again I say to myself: Really? I should know better by now.
The five of us trooped to the park and within minutes I realized I’d made a mistake. Three bounce houses. A playground full of kids. All things that Howie couldn’t do with his bad knee.
Cue meltdown in 3…2…1…
The first one came as we walked past the bounce house. We’d managed to do one quick tractor ride and a game before we walked by it.
The explanation of “you could hurt your knee again” was met with “but it doesn’t hurt now.” Howie just does not get the cause and effect relationship, especially when it comes to pain. If it is not happening in the moment, it can’t happen. It just doesn’t compute to him. I led him away as he was shrieking and hitting me.
The only way we moved on was by me telling him that if a kid fell on him in the bounce house, he could start bleeding again like at recess. I basically scared the crap out of him.
I tried to redirect him to activities we could do. When we stopped to talk with one of his new kindergarten aides, he spied the playground.
I let him go on some of the equipment, but tried to keep him off anything he had to climb or run on. You know, about 90% of the things there. Once I saw him attempt the rope ladder and shimmy his way across the platform to the monkey bars, I knew he had to come down or risk more injuries.
Cue meltdown #2 in 3…2…1.
With him yelling and kicking and jumping, we made our way over to a shady tree so we could watch the parade. He couldn’t sit, he wouldn’t stand, he wouldn’t leave.
The parade came in three waves down the street, starting with the fire trucks and police motorcycles. Howie couldn’t understand why some kids were in the fire trucks and he couldn’t.
I was trying to talk to the mom of one of Gerry’s best friends. Howie head-butted me in the stomach.
Then the marching band came and he was upset that there was no tuba.
Howie whined that he was thirsty and wanted juice. I offered lemonade. He didn’t like the smell. I started to talk to one of Howie’s former teachers. He turned around and tried to poke me in the eye.
Finally, the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts came by. When he recognized some kids from his school walking by, he asked why he couldn’t march as well. When I explained that the scouts were part of the parade, he completely fell apart.
Punching me. Kicking me.
Gerry went off with his friend. I turned to Tim and said we had to go.
I carried Howie from the shady tree around the park and back to the car. I’m sure half the town heard him scream “I HATE YOU MOM!” while he hit me on the shoulders. If the Beatles revival band hadn’t been singing “She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah” at the time, every eye in the park would have been on us.
Thing is, I’m sure he just looked like a spoiled kid who was mad that we were leaving the park before he was ready.
I knew he was in full sensory meltdown mode. There was no punishment necessary. His body was punishing him enough.
Once we were home, in the comfort of his green chair, with juice and “Rio” on the TV, he was calm. He sat sideways on the chair with his leg up. He asked for more juice about 4 times. And about 30 hugs.
He’s resting comfortably now.
Again, I ask myself : really? I should know better by now. I forget sometimes because we have come so far. The things – like Day in the Park – that we used to avoid, we can do now.
But not today.
If I could, I’d rewrite today’s plan. I would have sent just Gerry to the park with Tim or maybe called a friend. I would have stayed home with Howie or gone for a ride to a place where he didn’t have to use his leg. I would have ignored the voice in my head saying “everyone in town will be there, we can’t miss it” and gone with “it’s just not right for us today.”
But I can’t go change it.
Instead, I’ll go with next time I’ll know better.
“Yeah I’m workin’ on my rewrite, all right
Gonna change my ending
Throw away the title
Toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
All the Time I’m spending
Is just for workin’on my rewrite.
Gonna turn it into cash ” – Rewrite by Paul Simon
September 10, 2011 at 3:12 pm
I’m getting a little bit better about the I should know betters, but I still push to do things like this too, and get the same screaming overstimmed little boy results. Wonder if we’ll ever find the right balance between not wanting them to miss out versus not wanting to overstimulate them?
September 10, 2011 at 3:30 pm
I’m definitely getting better too, and I’m better at attempting things that in the past haven’t gone well. But this one – this had “bad idea” all over it from the start. Because if my son couldn’t go in the bounce house, then his brothers couldn’t either. And that wasn’t fair. So I should have just said forget it and try again another time.
September 10, 2011 at 3:16 pm
Please don’t chastise yourself for trying. That’s all any of us can EVER do…is try.
September 10, 2011 at 3:31 pm
absolutely! We tried and we’ll keep trying. The amazing things that we have been able to do recently have way outweighed the things we can’t. That is very very true.
September 10, 2011 at 4:04 pm
You made an attempt and this time it didn’t go over so well. It happens, Mama. And especially when you feel that you HAVE achieved so much, it can be so hard to sit it out.
It has taken me some serious practice, but today was a good example here, too – it was the National Guard Family Day picnic. The SGM never even entertained the idea of us attending with him (he was required to report there regardless). I used to feel like no matter how hard it might be to do so, we owed it to the other families to attend such events. Sergeants Major are charged with ‘leading the way’, setting the example, and the well-being of all of the soldiers and their families is top priority. So to me, it simply seemed IRRESPONSIBLE not to attend. I would drag both the kids, RM with tubes everywhere, pack up the feeding pump, supplies, diapers for two, snacks, toys, books, and the kitchen sink – because I thought that’s just what I was supposed to do.
Eventually, we learned as a family that some days, even the outtings we have ‘conquered’ before just aren’t worth it. (Though I still offered a dozen times to bring the kids down there today – even though I KNOW it would have been a disaster. Old habits DIE HARD. ;0)
Kudos to you, Mama. You really are doing a spectacular job.
Love you.
September 10, 2011 at 5:44 pm
Thanks sweetie. Yes, this was one of those “some days” But we both get credit for trying, right
September 10, 2011 at 4:21 pm
I’m so sorry. It’s so tough to have to go through that. I often let my desire to take my kiddos someplace overrule my knowledge that it will be a disaster. And sometimes I just walk in unawares. Hopefully next time the planets will align and it will go better. Big hugs.
September 10, 2011 at 5:45 pm
I definitely went in unawares this time, until we got there and I was *quite* aware. You handle it always with such humor and grace. You inspire me to try and try again.
September 10, 2011 at 5:32 pm
Oh, I’m so sorry. There are so many days I think we can do something and realize afterwards it wasn’t the right time, or the right circumstances, and then I agonize about it. You are doing the best thing you can – for you and your family, by saying that you can’t change today, just learn from it and adapt for the future. I think that is how we, and our families, get stronger. You are a wonderful mom and role model for all of us. xo
September 10, 2011 at 5:46 pm
absolutely. learn from today. try again tomorrow
thank you 
September 10, 2011 at 8:59 pm
Did you know it’s a full moon tonight too? The planets just weren’t in alignment. Those events overwhelm even the most mild mannered kids. You never know what will happen next time. Just think about how the beach was this year!
September 11, 2011 at 7:10 am
Wow, I have lived this. I so get it. This was us at the Autism Speaks Walk of all places, when my 3-year-old found out he had to wait in long lines for the bounce houses. And even there I felt as if my kid was the only one tantrumming! Ugh, days like that can make us feel deflated…it is nice that after a time you were able to step back and process the whole thing in a more cerebral rather than emotional way.
September 11, 2011 at 9:36 am
But there are the times when ‘the ‘bad idea’ days turn into the ‘Thank goodness we didn’t give up on trying’ days. The ones where our kids amaze us, where something or someone comes across our path that makes everything possible. The ones when we are grateful that we didn’t stay home because we ‘knew better’. So my darlin, no beating yourself up for not knowing better. Ya hear?
September 11, 2011 at 8:26 pm
so sorry it was a rough day. you simply cannot predict sometimes how things will go. and often some of the things our kids did well with in the past they might not deal well with today. and vice versa. if it’s hard or an epic fail and we have to make a fast getaway… i’m slowly learning to say so what? it’s worth it to keep trying and trying and trying. one day we’ll get it.
you said it perfectly: learn from today. try again tomorrow.
love.
September 12, 2011 at 10:49 am
I love that you were able to foresee the potential problems right away at the Day in the Park festivities but tried to see what he could do. You gave it a chance. You should not beat yourself up over that. It is always a delicate balance deciding what your child with autism can do on any given day. Some days you push and some days you pull back. You adjust as you go and that’s the best you can do. Stay strong! I love your blog and I’m linking to it on my blog, http://www.tips4specialkids.com. I am a special ed. teacher and have been working with children with autism and sensory processing disorders for over 3 years. Stop by and see if the strategies and tips may be helpful to you! And help me spread the word…. Thanks!
September 13, 2011 at 5:21 pm
You are so much stronger than you think you are. I know its so tough when things go pear shaped , but I want to be just like you and be able to step back and say: Learn from today, try again tomorrow. What a perfect line!