Tag, you're it!

Whoosh!  The month of August is flying by.  It's been a busy one, including my birthday and our wedding anniversary (16 years!).

Last week was chock-full of happenings in the Utah autism community:

• FAAST hosted a seminar for law enforcement personnel at Westminster.  I stopped by to see and was really impressed.  There was lots of good information and the officers were very engaged.
• Temple Grandin was in town, attending the USAAA conference and promoting her new book.
• The Sahara Cares Carnival was Saturday.  It's a very fun event with bounce houses, a DJ, games, etc.  UAC had a booth and we signed up a bunch of new members.

On top of that, Ben has been getting about 25 hours per week of in-home behavioral therapy.  We're hoping this will help with the transition to a classroom with typical kids.  It's been a lot of work for him, but we've seen some positive changes.  Most notably, he's become a lot more conversational.

Ben:  I'm hungry!
Me:  Well, what do you want?
Ben:  I want a popsicle.
Me:  Ok...I'll get you a popsicle.
Ben (looking surprised):  Really?
Me (looking more surprised):  Yes, really!  I'll be right back.
Ben:  Oh, that's so nice of you!

It may seem like little thing, but he's never said "really" before to me.  It's like he's not been engaged enough in a conversation to express surprise or to question a statement.  That's changing.

Last week on a trip to the park with his therapist, Ben saw a bunch of kids playing tag.  He ran up and touched one, saying "tag you're it" and joined in the fun.  That's huge!

The Benefits of Moving Slowly

Mark's was black.

In high school, I was on the science bowl team.  One day, when our after-school practice let out, I was walking out of the building with Mike.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zach (a.k.a. "The Gooch") drop his books in front of Mark's (a.k.a. "Opie Potter Bucky") truck.

Mark, not a particularly tall person, was behind the wheel of his family's big Dodge.  It was a working farm truck, the kind with a calf castrating tool in the glove box because ya never know when you might need to castrate a calf.

Zach must've assumed that Mark saw him and bent over to pick up his books.  Mark on the other hand, had been buckling his seat belt and could barely see over the steering wheel anyway.   When Mark started up his truck, Zach got a funny look on his face, but kept gathering his books.  When Mark put it into gear and pulled forward, Zach moved very quickly for a fellow his size, rolling between the wheels and flattening out.  It was really the best option, given his starting position and the truck's mighty clearance.  He was really fortunate that Mark was very level-headed for a teenager and not the kind who floors it to impress his friends.

Mike and I ran up, waving our arms and shouting, "Mark!  Mark!  You ran over the Gooch!"  Mark stopped, just as the Zach 's chest cleared the differential.  He rolled down his window, looking at us quizzically.  Out of breath, I panted, "You ran over the Gooch...BACK UP!"

Others may correct me, but I think that's about the dumbest thing I've ever said.  I guess I thought that Zach had been crushed and we needed to get to his unconscious body ASAP.  I never talked to the Gooch about it, but I can imagine his feelings of relief when the truck stopped, rapidly followed by disbelief when the truck started to back up.  This time, the differential caught him and dragged him a bit on the asphalt.

Duck, fool!

I did another dumb thing today, but fortunately, I was moving slowly.  Ben and I were at Liberty Park and he was being more volatile than usual.  I could tell he needed to go potty, but when I brought it up, he yelled at me.  Then he was trying to interact with a couple of much younger kids on a play-set in ways that they were not getting.  He started started to lose his cool and the kids were looking a little scared, so I put Ben up on my shoulders and headed to the restroom.

We travel that way a lot, and I'm usually very mindful of clearance, but this morning, with Ben yelling and pulling my hair, I was not.   As I walked through the restroom doorway, I heard a small thud from over my head.

Ben was quiet for a moment as I put him down, and then he started yelling, "Go home!"  I hugged him, but all he would say was "Go home!"

We exited the restroom and I carefully put him back on my shoulders, heading for the car.  Then the bloody nose began.  Ben gets lots of bloody noses, and I must say, this one was quite the gusher.  I didn't have a good way to stem it, so I just hurried to the car, avoiding low hanging limbs.  By the time we reached it, we both looked like something out of a horror movie.  On the plus side, Ben was laughing and making smacking noises with his lips.
 
It wasn't our best trip to the park, but it wasn't our worst either.

Have a safe and happy summer!

Adventure Time

"Are you looking for a boy?"

Those words were sweet relief.  I'd only been looking for a couple of minutes, but every moment since we realized Ben was missing had been filled with adrenaline.

I had been finishing dinner, Bubba was playing a game, and Lovely Wife was upstairs getting ready for the opening reception of the Utah state bar convention.  I thought Ben was headed up to pester his mom, but instead, he squeezed passed the obstacles I'd placed in the hall and slipped quietly out the front door with his truck.

The part of my brain that monitors such things was expecting to hear some exclamations from my wife - something like "No!  Put the make-up down!"  It informed the rest of my brain that it was time to put the pizza down.

"Bubba - see if you can find Ben - quick!"  He hopped up and dashed upstairs, returning quickly after searching all three levels of the condo.  "He's not here!"  Without prompting, he rushed outside to look for his little brother.  I grabbed my phone and went to join him.  He went uphill and I went down.

It was not long before the possible directions Ben had gone branched into something that would require a team of searchers, so when the nicely dressed woman said, "Are you looking for a boy?", I was very, very happy.

Ben had wandered into a reception, outdoors under a canopy.  I loped up the stairs I'd just gone down and burst into the reception, barefoot and clad in t-shirt and shorts.  The party-goers were well-dressed and slightly intoxicated.

 One gentleman pointed across the tent and said, "He went that away!"  I strode through and found Ben, who seemed happy to see me.  I scooped him up and we marched back through the party.  The bartender said, "He was the life of the party!"

Her name is "Rio"

This was our third evening in Snowmass, Colorado.  We're staying in a condo that's kind of like a 3-story shotgun shack.  It's sort of a monument to the 80's, but I liked the 80's pretty well.  They were almost as good as the 90's.

...cue dream sequence...

Yesterday morning, about 3:30, I was riding motorcycles through an airport with my friend, David.  We were trying to get to baggage claim.  I can never read in my dreams, so I couldn't follow the signs.  Also, my motorcycle seemed to be stuck on full throttle.  The escalators were exciting.

I plowed into a neatly stacked pile of luggage (who does that?) just in time to see Ben go through a door on the baggage conveyor.  I woke with a start.

My first thought was "What was that noise?  Is Ben up?"  I grabbed some clothes off the floor and headed downstairs.  Ben's door was shut, so I headed to the first floor and checked the door - still bolted.  The sliding door to the deck was still locked too.  Ben couldn't lock either behind himself, so I knew he was still inside.

I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep upstairs, so I drowsed on the couch until Ben woke up at 6:00.

Aspen child trap...good thing we bring spare clothes everywhere.

Yesterday, I picked up some twine and some delicious New Belgium ale in bottles.  Last night, after putting Ben to bed, I tied the twine to his doorknob and ran it up and into our bedroom.  I tied the other end to an empty bottle and put it in the marble fireplace hearth so it would tip over when Ben opened his door.

It worked like a charm - I got a good night's sleep and the bottle tipped at 5 o'clock.  Beer bottle clattering on marble was not the most pleasant way to wake up, but the sleep before it was deep and refreshing. 

For information on autism and wandering, visit AWAARE.