Inside Out

We just saw (for the second time, because apparently that's our thing now) one of the most well executed films I have ever seen. Inside Out should be required viewing for every parent, and Autism Parents should have to watch it once a day for the rest of the foreseeable future. In it one can find the type of imagery that can only be created by PIXAR, and the lessons that will last a lifetime that can only come through the execution of an amazing story. Why should Autism Parents have to watch this film every day? Because it helps them remember that Autism is the reason children don't respond the way they should. If you can imagine Riley's head without the console. Remember when she was a baby and there was one big button? Remember that the strength of the emotion Joy or Sadness was based on that button? Well imagine Riley's head where every emotion had it's own button, and their own screen. That would be Spirit's head in a nutshell. All of his emotions vying for complete control of his mind and body. All of them seeing the situation as their opportunity to control the situation. What a mess that would be! How hard would it be to discern what was right. Especially when perception is skewed by each emotion's own interpretation. Oh yeah I forgot, they don't talk to each other either. SO Joy isn't talking Sadness out of her reaction, Anger isn't overriding Fear. Nothing but raw unbridled reaction. Wow my kid is amazing! Because in spite of all that confusion, all that misinterpretation, he finds a way to function. Don't ask me how. I know I couldn't do it. So let's tip our cap to all the kids with disorders. The kids whose headquarters aren't nearly as organized as Riley's. Because those are the kids that should be celebrated. 

It's been a year

Well it's been a year and much has happened. So I'll catch you up...yeah that's not happening. Look I am starting afresh and hoping that you'll forgive my lack of blogging it's been a wild year. Since Spirit's ordination we have been to Disneyland with Heart's family, had Christmas, been to two Autism Galas, and had another birthday. So I'll leave it at that. Blogs are about the here and now anyway so to the three people that actually read this...here goes. A new start and another movie. (Cause we're really into movies.)

Milestones

Some days you wonder what it all means. You blast away at the rubble trying to clear a spot in the cave in to see the light. Hoping that there is something worth it at the end. Too many times it becomes about "big events." It's about milestones. Days you can point to and say: "Yep, that's where we made it to the top of the mountain."

What a bunch of garbage!

This life is made up of a million tiny victories and defeats, and today...well today was one of those days. A little victory, filled with the culmination of hundreds, if not thousands little choices and victories. Today was Spirit's ordination day.

For those that are unfamiliar, we believe, once a young man has reached the age of twelve they are eligible to receive the Aaronic Priesthood, if they so choose. Spirit chose to receive the priesthood today. A milestone? I sure hope not. I hope it's a stepping stone. This isn't the top of the mountain, it's the beginning of the path. I had the privileged to act as the conduit for the transmission of that priesthood, and was acutely aware that this is no milestone. Rather, it is his natural progression, and although some days his autism seems like his AUTISM!, we find ourselves on a journey that puts him in the lead. Not born of choice, but born of his purity. His limitations are minuscule compared to his goodness and I know his Savior knows it.

So amid the complaints that will accompany his additional responsibility, I know that the priesthood he bears, and will ever be worth to bear, will supersede mine in its power because of his ability to shut out the world that so easily distracts me.

The Eye Of The Storm

I have never experienced a hurricane. The closest I have come to any sort of natural disaster is when they closed school because we had 18" of snow in one night. I've watched in awe and fear as newscasters try to continue broadcasting from the shores of some beach, and I can't help thinking:

"Wow...what an idiot."

He or she stands there on the brink of disaster, trying to assist those of us at home in our safe houses in imagining the fury of something like that storm. I watch the wind whip the reporters raincoat and see the rain pounding like pellets being cast from the heavens and I wonder what possesses anyone to stand there while the impending doom of 70+ mph winds bearing down on them like the sweeping hand of God comes their way. Then it hits me, they stand there so the rest of us don't have to, they stand there because they see things that others can't, or are too afraid to see.

I watched that reporter today, watched him standing in the eye of the storm as he so often does, trying desperately not to be swallowed up by the chaos that threatened to rip his world to shreds all around him. I watched as the eye of the storm began to shrink and those awful howling winds began to creep ever closer to the reporter. As is often the case, the signal became garbled and I was only receiving parts of the whole message as the fury of the storm crept ever closer to the reporter. Eventually we lost all communication for a time, and were quite worried that we would never see the reporter again. 

Then slowly, miraculously even, the signal began to return and we were relieved to find him alive. The storm had swallowed him up, tossed him about like a rag doll, then deposited him right where he started, exhausted from fighting against the wind and hail that beat him into submission. I watched that reporter, get to his feet, regain his composure, and once again begin to report the news. He was a little beaten, but unbroken, and as his newscast closed for the evening all who had seen the storm approaching wondered how he had survived. I admired him, was happy I had stayed tuned in, and then was humbled when I realized that he had fought the whole thing off.

Its a metaphor, and probably not a good one, but it describes our day perfectly. Spirit, I watch you in the eye of the storm and wonder how you will ever make it. I watch you as you delay the inevitable and continue to report until the last possible moment. Then I watch you rise from the hurricane that seems to try to destroy you, and you come back ready to report again. You are amazing, and I will be there every time the storm engulfs you. Praying that I can help you, knowing that I can't, but still praying, ever praying for that little boy in the storms created by your mind.

I love you.

A Father's Prayer

Good Evening Father, its me tonight, and we've come to it again.

One of your sons needs your help, to protect him from the wind.

Some days they blow so hard it seems they'll carry us away.

And keep us from returning to that place thou'd have us stay.

I know before, thou dids't commission me, to protect him from this place.

To keep him safe from all the storms, and teach him of thy grace.

And Tonight I feel like Peter, running to wake thy Son.

"Master the tempest! How can we survive? I fear we're all undone!"

I know this is the mission I was sent here to do.

To help them both move on their way and bring them back to you.

But some days the billows toss so high and play on the angry deep.

And on this night I lie awake and I find it hard to sleep.

The veil it seems is extra thick inside his little mind.

His Spirit bumps against its walls and struggles a weakness to find.

If we could look into the past, to days long gone I'm sure

We'd see a warrior of light and truth, of strength and intention pure.

But as I said the wind it blows, the billows toss, the ship it sways,

And makes it all so hard to see, you're promise of better days

So for tonight I've one request, only one thing I need.

Just let Our son sleep comfortably another day to see. 

For someday soon your promise is, I'll see him this is sure

The veil be gone, his mind made whole, his Spirit holy and pure.

I'll let him rest in Thy care tonight, I've done all I can do

And so Dear Father I entrust his care this night to only You

Thou art the only one I trust to love him as I do

For the rest of my life I will freely give,

To Him, to Her and to You.

Days Like Today

Spirit you need to know that your mom is a saint. She's a saint because of days like today. In order to explain it to you I need to start with the picture below.

Ya see Mom's job today was to cross this river (metaphorically speaking). The river is you, Mom had some things to do with you today, that represents crossing the river. What she realized very early in the day was that this river wasn't as calm as it looked. There was a school of piranhas lurking underneath these calm waters, ready to devour anything or anyone that dared attempt to cross it. 

Autism does that sometimes. It sneaks up on both you and your mother. You react in ways she can't predict, and you can't control. It's taxing for both of you. So when you read this and you understand what it was like for her today, give her a hug and tell her you love her. 

Sometimes she even waded into the water and got attacked, but give her some credit she got across the river. Even with all of those piranhas lurking. Part of the calling of being your mom, and she doesn't flinch a bit. 

So give it up to the two superheroes in our home. You, for fighting off your autism, and your mom for making you her priority...always.

That's why she's our Heart.

Movie Nights

You watched Kung Fu Panda for the 1000th time tonight. You giggled at Po and the never ending slapstick he provides. The Dragon Warrior that never really fit in. All the time wanting to be more, knowing that his story was bigger than the situation life had thrown at him. 

Kinda reminds me of my hero. He's a kid  that finds himself in a very similar situation to Po. Many of his physical attributes keep him from being all the things he wishes he could be. Many of the people around him feel as though he doesn't quite fit in, but like Po, this kid never gives up. He chooses to see the good in everyone and assumes that the bad is just a misunderstanding. What a great way to live! Too often I let my skepticism reek havoc on what I should really see. Family, friends, brothers, and sisters. 

Like Po, Spirit, you see the potential in others, and I envy your perspective. As always you teach me lessons that I have trouble learning on my own. And like your friend Po, I think one day we will kneel at your feet and recognize the true measure of your character, and the breadth and depth of your obedience and understanding of the plan of your Heavenly Father.

For now, know that I am watching and keeping watch, until you are ready to take the reigns.

Love,

Guts

I'll Find You

You fought off the fever as best you could, but the medicine hadn’t kicked in and it was apparent that your senses were even more exposed than they usually are. 

You shivered in the lobby of the photo studio begging your mother and I to take you home, as I prayed that the medicine would take hold and assist your body in fighting off the fever. 

We had planned on the pictures for months now and rescheduling was a hard option that we were staring directly in the face. I wasn’t counting on the photographer. Here we were smack in the middle of one of your more epic meltdowns, and he came outside, and asked if you would like to take pictures outside where it was warm. 

It was so simple, so unnecessary, and yet he came your way, and you started to tame the monster inside of you. Your eyes were red, your arms crossed in a protective stance. Guarding yourself from the things in this world that constantly assault you. You were still closed off to the world, but we came to you. I let you lash out at me, as you usually do, and he came with an olive branch. I promised you a long time ago that wherever you go, I would follow and find you when the monster came out to play. I am thankful today for the help of a stranger. 

Thanks Luke

Explaining the Unexplainable to Spirit

"I'm afraid to go to school," said Spirit.

"Why's that pal?" I reply.

"I don't want to get killed."

So much of this life we spend time focussing on the menial, we scurry around involved in the thick of thin things. Trying to make sense of the confusion. Then something happens that shines a light on the importance of seeing through the confusion. I won't focus on the tragedy, I choose not to give fame to the heinous acts of a disturbed individual, but I do look to understand the plan of my Father in Heaven. It is with this logic in mind that I answered my son.

Spirit's autism has kept him guarded from these types of tragedies, he has heard the news with little reaction. Maybe it was the fact that a school was involved, maybe it was because he becomes increasingly more aware of this world with each passing day, or maybe its because he isn't as desensitized as those of us that have been indoctrinated in the media environment that exists in today's world, but Spirit was concerned, first for his own safety, and then for the other children.

"I hope a criminal doesn't break into my school."

It's frightening for him, and I have to admit it's frightening for me. So Spirit, I am going to try and explain the unexplainables of this world. You may not understand it right now, and will probably have to settle for a simpler answer from me for the time being, but I believe that one day you will need this, and I think that I am in the right frame of mind to give an answer. (The tragedy in Connecticut fresh on my mind.) So here goes...

Why do things like this happen?

Short answer pal, I haven't a clue. Let me tell you what I do know. We all came to Earth with agency, it was a gift from our Heavenly Father that was so precious to him that he cast out one third of his children that tried to destroy it. Father in Heaven knew that his sons and daughters would use this agency to make good choices and bad choices, so he created a proving ground. We are in that proving ground now. Earth, is the perfect place for us to work out our imperfect judgement, and understand how our choices can have eternal effects on our entire existence. With this proving ground came a way to make up for bad choices, the Atonement, Heavenly Father put in a built in failsafe. The Savior came to Earth to do two things: 1) He came to suffer for the sins of everyone that ever lived on the Earth so that we have the opportunity to make right the things we can't. 2) He came to feel all of the pains of every person that has ever lived on the planet. This means that he can offer comfort to everyone involved in any tragic situation. So you can see that Heavenly Father planned for the dumb things that his children would do.

Why does Heavenly Father let these types of things happen?

Let's talk about what Heavenly Father knows first. He knows all things, the end and the beginning. That can be confusing, so let me put it this way. It is impossible to throw Heavenly Father a surprise party. That means that he knows what's going to happen before it happens. He knows the decisions we will make, BEFORE we make them. Keep in mind we still have to make the decisions, but the outcome is known to Heavenly Father, so that means he can plan for help, plan for lessons to learn, and plan to make sure everything works out.

Above all Spirit know that Heavenly Father loves us! THIS ABOVE ALL.

So say your prayers, know that your Heavenly Father, and your Earthly Father, will work together and our hardest to make this world as easy and beneficial as possible. We love you and will protect you at all costs. Believe it or not He loves you just as much as I do, He may say more, but I think He's okay with the tie. I think He is okay if I speak for both of us. We love you!

Love,

Guts

Boy on the Train

He sits on the train, eyes darting from side to side. Like a prize fighter waiting for the next punch to be thrown. He looks like the train scares him. He focuses on the scenery trying not to let the noise, the shaking, the faces, bother him. He looks at me, very unintentionally mind you, I smile, he looks at the ground, and there it is. I can see autism...can you?

I think "What a brave young man."

He can't be more than seventeen. The others can't see it. They can't see him fighting it off. Focussing to keep himself in check. He rubs his hands together like he's cold. I know better, he's found an ingenious little way to stim without drawing too much attnetion. I smile, and a tear hides behind my eye.

I want to shout at the people: "Can't you see it?! Can't you see how heroic he's being?! This train is like hell on Earth for him and here he sits! No meltdown not even a hint of Echolalia! This kid deserves a standing ovation!"

There they sit, oblivious to his heroism. Well I see it little Jazz fan, and it's amazing. Way to go buddy!

I think about Spirit, he will be this boy someday.

Spirit, in case I haven't told you, you'll always be my hero.

Love,

Guts

We're Learning!

Heart, Spirit, and I went to the lights at Temple Square, but this year things were different. In past years we have gone to the lights (a family tradition since before Spirit's birth) and the night has usually ended with Spirit throwing a fit, in tears, and his mother and I confused, a little frustrated and a lot flabbergasted at what had occurred. Last year didn't end that way, but Spirit's mother and I were still just as befuddled. See my post A Visit To the Museum With the Tasmanian Devil for more details of last year's trip.

As I said this year was different, although my description of the events could be described as identical. Spirit wanted to go to the children's museum atop the Church History Museum. We blew through it in thirty-three seconds, and Heart and I smiled. We took the escalator up, and the elevator down. (A compromise. That's a big deal for you Non-HFA parents out there.) We met Heart's family outside the museum and headed to Temple Square. We decided to go to the lights right after the Thanksgiving Holiday to avoid the inevitable crowds, and to enjoy some unseasonably warm weather. Spirit was on a mission as soon as we passed through the gates, yet there was something different this time. He rushed to the visitor's center making sure to pass by the life size nativity. He noted the beauty of the scene and continued walking. We headed into the Visitor's Center for a quick potty break and then were back at it. A left at the nativity and we were headed toward the Assembly Hall, passing the Tabernacle. A comment about the choir singing and where they sing. Then a left again at the Assembly Hall and off to the plaza for a photo op at the reflecting pool, the podium in front of the grass and temple, and we're done with the lights. Total time approximately seventeen minutes. Heart's family, and Heart, and myself just smile.

Then Guts remembers that there is a Disney Store in the new mall across the street. A quick mention of this and we just bought some more time with a "preferred activity." Once we are at the Disney Store we can focus in on some objects that tickle our fancy. After about eight minutes in the Disney Store we got our first, "I'm hungry, can we go home." Heart lets him know that we are going to go out to eat at one of his preferred eateries. The walk is about five blocks and, of course, we get stopped at every intersection. We make it to the restaurant just in time to get him fed, and it is time to go home... unfortunately we took the train into town, so now we are waiting at a station. This wouldn't be a problem except for the sign. The designers of the train stations we smart men. They decided that it would be easier and more convenient for the riders if they could predict when another train was coming. This prompted the hanging of a digital sign that indicated the approximate time a train would arrive...approximate....time. Autism...meltdown. I don't know if there was a slow pedestrian, a wheelchair that needed to get on the train and took a little more time, or if there was just someone that was extra cautious behind the wheel, but the train was a couple of minutes behind the approximate scheduled arrival time. This was bad enough, but the digital sign that broke the meltdown's back was the popup, you see when a train's time has come, the next trains arrival time pops up. Well my little autistic Spirit freaked out when the train we were waiting for disappeared and the next train's arrival time popped up. KABOOM!

So Heart and I got to ride home with The Dark Lord of the Meltdowns, Emperor Palpatine would be proud Spirit!

Next year no train, I don't want to experience FORCE LIGHTNING, that stuff kicked Luke's trash! 

Lessons From Wreck-it Ralph

Spirit, Heart and I had the opportunity to catch a matinee this weekend, and Spirit chose Wreck-It Ralph. Disney is finally figuring out what Pixar has known all along, that the technology is no good to anyone without a great story. And Wreck-It Ralph is a great story. This isn't a movie review, although the film deserves all the accolades it is receiving. This is about a Dad that saw many identifiable characteristics between himself and the characters on the screen. (Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen the film I may ruin some stuff for you.) Ralph is a guy that is no longer comfortable in the role to which he has been programmed. He finds himself questioning who he is and what he really wants out of life. This leads him to "game jump." To try and find his place in the world and the rewards he thinks it will bring. He achieves what he thinks is success and ends up crashing into another game where he meets the girl on his shoulder in the picture. Venelope is a sassy little girl that has learned some hard lessons about how people treat others that they feel are different. The other characters in her game have ostracized her for her differences, and excluded her from racing in the nightly tournament that decides the mornings players for the people in the arcade.

Ralph, at first, is more concerned with taking proof to those in his old game of his achievements than he is with helping Venelope. But once he bears witness to the injustices being leveled against her he decides to help. Venelope is a "glitch" something went wrong with her programming and she has a hard time holding herself together when she gets overly excited or emotional. (You're starting to see the parallels now aren't you.) She is ridiculed for her being a "glitch" and has to find respite inside a mountain, where she makes the best with what she has. Without giving anymore of the film away let's say in typical Disney/Pixar fashion Ralph and Venelope combine their efforts to save the day, all while learning that who you are is more about what is on the inside and not how others treat you. Venelope uses her "special abilities" to save the day, and her differences are what help to save everyone in her game.

Now, why would a movie like that leave Heart and I in tears you ask...We are the parents of a "glitch." He has his own special abilities, and his differences are at times invisible, but when he gets overly excited or emotional, those differences become obvious. Yet, if we look carefully, and help him to understand those abilities he may just save us all.

I, on the other hand, identified with Ralph. Once he got to looking around he was left to wonder, "Is this it?" Is this the programmers plan? I've even considered venturing out to prove to the world that I am more than what I have been programmed to be. Yet, like Ralph, I have realized that helping others and adjusting the world I have been given will give me more satisfaction than any other "medal" I could receive anywhere else. My little "glitch"reminds me that, although I may not see the code some days, the programmer has a plan for all of us, and if we stick to it, and make the best of what we have, happiness will surely follow.

Do answers to prayers come at the movies?

For me they did.

Thanks Ralph

What Spirit would say if he could...

Welcome to my world.

You'll find that there are some things that are the same as your world and there are many things that are different. So if you think you have what it takes you can step into my world and how I see things.

Spirit Colored Glasses:

My world can be; 

Confusing for me.

My head doesn't process things as fast as yours so if I look confused, or I don't look like I "registered" it probably hasn't. 

Confusing about what is expected from me.

Lots of steps get muddled up in my brain. So speak slowly, make sure I understand and then guide me through the process. I can succeed just like you, I just need a little more help. PS I'm worth it!

Confusing about how I should be acting with different environment and social demands.

Processing environmental and social information is very difficult for me, it's not that I can't do it, it's that it takes me more time and a little bit of coaching to help me react appropriately. Don't be afraid to coach me. (Away from the eyes of my peers) That way I can make adjustments. I will look to you to see if I am doing it right. A thumbs up and some encouragement are all I need. Remember, I don't see things the way you do, so you may have to get around your own idiosyncrasies 

Painful for me.

Stimulus are often overwhelming for me, and when I am overstimulated things become painful for me. If this happens get me outta there. Get me to a "safe place" where I can reset.

Overwhelming for me.

If you see me flapping my hands, covering my ears, or if I look like you look when you hear nails on a chalkboard, things are probably getting overwhelming for me. If this happens, get close to me, meet my eyes and ask what I want. I can usually tell you what I need. But if you ask, make sure you are prepared to meet my needs, because if you can't (or more likely won't) then I will meltdown even faster.

Scary for me.

Situations that seem "fun" to you can look like a minefield to me. Please understand that I can usually get to some point that I will try new things, but this could take a lot of time. (Years even) So don't expect to get me into something new without a lot of prep work and everything going exactly.

Lonely for me.

It's lonely to watch everyone get the joke, and not. So I may laugh harder and louder to compensate. It's lonely to see people get moved by a musical number and not know why. So I ask "are you sad?" It's lonely to see people I think like me because we played yesterday, ignore me today. 

Too busy and too fast.

Everyone seems to be moving much faster than I can. As a result, I am always feeling a little rushed and anxious. Please be patient, I want to be included, I just need some help. I love being included and the way it feels when everyone takes a little more time for me.

I hope this helps you see what the world is like through my eyes. I sure am glad that you are a part of my journey living with autism.

Love, Spirit

10 Things Spirit Wishes People in His Circle Knew (Part 1)

Dear Friends and Family,


Guts is writing this letter because I can't...yet, but please take note because he knows me and he knows Heart, and they are my life and would like some people that want to know to know what hey need to so here goes:

I am a child with autism. I am not "autistic." My autism is one aspect of my total character. It does not define me as a person. Are you a person with thoughts, feelings and many talents, or are you just fat (overweight), myopic (wear glasses) or klutzy (uncoordinated, not good at sports)?

What this means for those on Team Spirit: This is hard for Heart and Guts, because although they don't want me to be defined by my autism, they would also like you to take note that there are times when I can no longer fight off my autism. I do a pretty good job most of the time, but it is nice when others understand that my behavior may be outside of my control. I don't have a wheelchair or a cane or something that physically represents my autism, in fact most people that see me on a limited basis have a hard time telling I have autism at all. This makes it that much more important for those that I know to educate those people that don't know. I don't want to seem over reactive, it is just more difficult for me to fight off the autism when other things are hammering on my sensitivities. You probably experience similar situations in your life when you are exceptionally tired, hungry, stressed or nervous. It is hard to react appropriately at these times for you, now imagine that being the case ALL of the time. It's hard, and I know I can be frustrating, but if you are patient, understand that I am having a hard time fighting it off, and take some extra time, I can (most of the time) get back on track. If I can't, call Guts or Heart, they'll know what to do.

2. My sensory perceptions are disordered. This means the ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touches of everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. The very environment in which I have to live often seems hostile. I may appear withdrawn or belligerent to you, but I am really just trying to defend myself. A "simple" trip to the grocery store may be hell for me. My hearing may be hyperacute. Dozens of people are talking at once. The loudspeaker booms today's special. Muzak whines from the sound system. Cash registers beep and cough. A coffee grinder is chugging. The meat cutter screeches, babies wail, carts creak, the fluorescent lighting hums. My brain can't filter all the input, and I'm in overload! My sense of smell may be highly sensitive. The fish at the meat counter isn't quite fresh, the guy standing next to us hasn't showered today, the deli is handing out sausage samples, the baby in line ahead of us has a poopy diaper, and they’re mopping up pickles on Aisle 3 with ammonia. ... I can't sort it all out, I'm too nauseous.

Because I am visually oriented, this may be my first sense to become over stimulated. The fluorescent light is too bright. It makes the room pulsate and hurts my eyes. Sometimes the pulsating light bounces off everything and distorts what I am seeing. The space seems to be constantly changing. There's glare from windows, moving fans on the ceiling, so many bodies in constant motion, too many items for me to be able to focus - and I may compensate with tunnel vision. All this affects my vestibular sense, and now I can't even tell where my body is in space. I may stumble, bump into things, or simply lay down to try and regroup.

What this means for Team Spirit: Smells and tastes seem to be my biggest misperceptions loud noises are a little hard too, but if I am prepared or they are associated with something I like to do, I can usually fight off my autism. Keep in mind that just because I can, doesn't mean that I will. I try to participate as much as I can, but there are times that I can no longer handle all of the over stimulation. There are signs that I am getting over stimulated, I become withdrawn and seek an activity that can "reset" me as Heart and Guts put it. I may also ask to leave. Please don't take offense. I am not trying to be anti-social, rude, or inconsiderate. Quite the contrary, I am trying to avoid making a scene and moving to a meltdown. If it looks like I am getting overstimulated, removing me from the situation for a while is the perfect remedy, keep in mind this may not always work, but it's worth a shot. :-)

3. Please remember to distinguish between won't (I choose not to) and can't (I'm not able to). Receptive and expressive language are both difficult for me. It isn't that I don't listen to instructions. It's that I can't understand you. When you call to me from across the room, this is what I hear: "*&^%$#@, Spirit. #$%^*&^%$&*" Instead, come speak directly to me in plain words: "Please put your book in your desk, Spirit. It's time to go to lunch." This tells me what you want me to do and what is going to happen next. Now it's much easier for me to comply.

What this means for Team Spirit: So many times people think that I am CHOOSING not to comply with their requests. Please remember that I am fighting with myself constantly. My autism is a constant uninvited guest in my head, I don't want it there as much or more than you do. Please don't think that I am being rebellious because I want to. What I want is to keep that uninvited guest at bay for as long as possible. This means that I have to understand completely what you want, and even then I may not fully understand what you want. I promise to give it my all, if you will promise to be patient and understanding when I don't fully succeed, but hey, that means I succeeded a little right! Let's celebrate that, the more of a positive experience that I have the better chance you will have of getting me to try it again. Remember that uninvited guest hates failure, and what you perceive as "progress" may just translate into failure to him. So keep it positive and upbeat, and I will be much more able to keep him at bay.

4. I am a concrete thinker. I interpret language literally. It's very confusing for me when you say, "Hold your horses, cowboy!" when what you really mean is "Please stop running." Don't tell me something is a "piece of cake" when there is no dessert in sight and what you really mean is, "This will be easy for you to do." When you say, "It's pouring cats and dogs," I see pets coming out of a pitcher. Please just tell me, "It's raining very hard." Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres and sarcasm are lost on me.

What this means to Team Spirit: I'm getting better at this skill! I can usually tell when someone is being funny, or trying to be sarcastic in a funny way. I have a much harder time when people don't explain the sarcasm right away, or they do it in a semi-mean way. Sarcasm is inherently mean anyway and it is hard to understand why anyone would be mean to me, especially those that are closest to me. I know that "good natured ribbing" as Guts calls it, is a part of some people's everyday interactions, I'm just not in a position to interpret it, and thus I react very negatively to that type of interaction. Inference is also very hard for me, you may look in my room and say "This room is a mess." I will not infer that you are telling me that you want me to clean it up, I will simply agree. (Thinking you are stating a fact.) So be simple and be direct. Take the short route to the barn, as Guts says, and we will understand one another perfectly.

5. Be patient with my limited vocabulary. It's hard for me to tell you what I need when I don't know the words to describe my feelings. I may be hungry, frustrated, frightened or confused, but right now those words are beyond my ability to express. Be alert for body language, withdrawal, agitation, or other signs that something is wrong.

There's a flip side to this: I may sound like a little professor or a movie star, rattling off words or whole scripts well beyond my developmental age. These are messages I have memorized from the world around me to compensate for my language deficits, because I know I am expected to respond when spoken to. They may come from books, television or the speech of other people. It's called echolalia. I don't necessarily understand the context or the terminology I'm using, I just know it gets me off the hook for coming up with a reply.

What this means for Team Spirit: Patience, Patience, Patience. My vocabulary is limited, but if you wait on me I will tell you how I am feeling. I only bottle up when I am over stimulated AND expected to describe my feelings. Most of the time I will tell you. I also am very good at multiple choice, if you give me some choices and you get it right I will usually confirm your suspicions I am almost always using Echolalia to fill the spaces in my conversation or to withdraw from my conversations. Let me do it, unless you need something from me directly. My limited vocabulary and high stress/stimulus situations drive me to it as a coping mechanism. If you pull me out of it, over and over, you aren't allowing me to cope with whatever is stressing or stimulating me, and that can lead to a meltdown situation.

Superman Should Wear Spirit Pajamas!

Superman leaps tall buildings in a single bound, is bulletproof, lifts buildings, cars, small islands, can turn back time by flying around the Earth at light speed. He can also save the world a thousand times over and all before he has breakfast. In a word Superman is AWESOME. But there is a problem. Anyone that knows about Superman knows that irradiated pieces of his home planet a.k.a. kryptonite make him weaker than some old lady in a wheelchair. No more buildings, no more bullets, no more flying. In fact, kryptonite makes Superman less than a man.

So as long as Superman isn't around kryptonite he's being Superman.

And this is what leads me to believe that Superman wears Spirit pajamas. Ya see, Spirit's kryptonite is with him always. It courses through his veins and into his brain and tries it's damnedest to make him weaker everyday. And yet Spirit still makes it through each day. He writes essays about the Statue of Liberty, memorizes the Articles of Faith, writes in cursive, knows his times tables backward and forward, struggles through reading comprehension, and today was awarded the most improved student and the Brilliant Bobcat award at his school.

Some people look up to those that are invincible, those that seem to go beyond the human capacity. Not me, the impressive ones are the ones that have every excuse, not to try, they have every reason to pack it in, and frankly who would blame them. If I spent the better part of my life fighting off the attacking environment around me, I'd be done in six seconds flat. But not Spirit, and that's what makes him worth admiring. Superman's gifts come because the sun comes out each day, while Spirit wakes up with his demons waiting for him each morning. You tell me who's stronger. 

So with all due respect Superman, you ain't got nuthin on Spirit. You wanna impress me? Try saving the world with a big hunk of kryptonite wrapped around your neck cause that's what Spirit does everyday.

You all thought that big S on his chest stood for Superman didn't you. Well Superman and Spirit know better. It stands for Spirit. The little boy with the strength to fight off the kryptonite inside of him and impress the hell out of everyone.


That's my boy! My Hero!

Hulk

You know, there are times when something just clicks. Heart and I were discussing this weekend and the overloads to Spirit's system and she expressed herself this way:

"Some days it feels like we are living with the Hulk."

Truer words were never spoken. Here we sit watching every move Spirit makes. Wondering if the wrong expression will turn him into the raging Hulk. It's interesting, the parallels are uncanny. Bruce Banner is a mild mannered science guy with a pension for keeping calm in extreme situations. He dedicates himself to a regimen that keeps his other self at bay, all while trying to make sense of a senseless world.

Spirit is exactly the same. There are times when I can see in his eyes that the Hulk is bubbling below the surface, threatening to lay waste to whatever he can get his hands on. One false step and Spirit becomes a big green rage machine. Eventually the Hulk calms down and we can all breathe a little easier, but for a certain period all we can do is wait him out. But I like Captain America in the Avengers can get very simple, very easy commands into the rage and help him to come out of it. Sometimes I just want to look at Spirit and say: "Hulk, smash." I mean why the heck not, sometimes in my life I'd like an excuse to go nuts just because.

So you go Spirit, and just like the Avengers, Heart and I will take the good with the bad, because eventually Bruce Banner learned to control the other guy and then he became an unstoppable force for good, and I think your worth the wait.

Days Like Today

I love to golf. I'm horrible at it, but I love it. I have played hundreds of times and my game has improved, slightly, subtlety, almost imperceptibly. In fact if you didn't know me or hadn't golfed with me you would never see the improvements.

If you have golfed you will be able to identify with the feeling I am about to describe. After shanking shot after shot into the trees, the lake, the next fairway, and even into houses close to the course, the inevitable conversation starts in your head. It goes something like this:

[After shank #6]
"Maybe I should take up bowling. There are tons of fat guys that do that."

[After shank #15]
"They don't seem to have a problem. It can't be near as frustrating as this stupid game."

[After shank #22]
"Yeah, bowling! That would be the perfect pass time."

[After shank #??, because you quit counting after thirty something]
"That's it I'm throwing these #@$% clubs into the next body of water I see!"

Then you line up at 18, it's a long par four and because you are so exhausted from chasing your ball and so fed up with this entire game you begrudgingly pull out the driver. You know its going left...or right...or way left...or way right, but right now you don't really care. You tee up your ball, not giving any thought to height, look down the fairway with little to no regard for your alignment, hall off and smack the ball with everything you've got. Again, not giving one hoot where it goes.

Your buddy exclaims, "Nice shot!" And since you have been taking his ribbing for the last 17 holes you decide that an acceptable alternative to throwing your clubs in the lake will come with wrapping your driver around his head. You are just about to do so when your eyes look up and you see it. Your beautiful shot sailing down the middle of the fairway, bounding toward the green, and settling just shy of the putting surface. You smile.

[After nice drive #1]
"You know what, all I need to do is get out more and I could really be good at this game."

That was our day today. Spirit was in church, and after the week we have had I was ready to chuck the clubs into the lake. Yet there he was, reverent, participatory, angelic. I don' know where it came from, I don't dare ask, but like the drive that bought my next round of golf, today bought me more time. Time to cope, time to understand, time to reflect, because Spirit is exactly that, the Spirit of our house, and there is no one on this planet I trust more than him.

So well done Spirit, you just bought another 18 holes.

Medical Diagnosis

Spirit, Heart, and I have spent the last three weeks navigating the medical diagnosis process. It's basically the equivalent of the SAT test. Ask the same questions hundreds of times in a different way to see if the answers consistently point to what everyone is seeing. So two days ago we sat with a psychologist provided by the school district, and she pointed us to what we already knew. PDD-NOS (Pervasive Development Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) the autistic diagnosis equivalent eh...I don't know.

Here's what we know:

We know he has autism.

We know he is very high functioning.

Pretty much anything we thought we knew before. Interestingly enough you put yourself in this position that when the news drops you're like: "Okay, that's exactly what we thought it was." And yet through all the smiles, the quirky stories, and the familiarity of the situation, you're secretly hoping that the Psychologist in front of you is going to laugh a little then tell you that you are crazy. He is just a normal nine year old with some idiosyncrasies and he will outgrow it.

No such luck. I've never had some sort of a terminal cancer, never been given news that devastated me, the closest I've ever come was when I misheard my mother giving me some bad news about my cousin, and for about ten minutes I thought my Dad was dead. Yet as the smiling, understanding, charming woman sitting across the table from us indicated that our observations were correct, the lump in my throat got larger and larger. It doesn't matter how many times I played the situation out in my mind, when she confirmed what we already knew, my heart sank.

All I could think was, "what now?"

What now? Now we live by lists, we look for ways to control the environment around him we assist him in dealing with the constant attacks from everyday interactions.

I quote one of my son's favorite movies.

"We're about to go over a cliff aren't we?"

"Yep"

"Sharp rocks at the bottom?"

"Most likely."

"Bring it on."

So we're busy embracing the finality of Spirit's diagnosis.

Bring it on.

All A Matter Of Perspective

I've heard a lot of people, when describing activities to which they take their autistic children, they often expect and plan for a meltdown. Heart and I...well we're not really there yet. (Although we should be.) Spirit, Heart, and I, headed to the Eggs for Autism Easter Egg Hunt today. It was your typical hunt...booths, eggs, two thousand kids. I can see hundreds of dads with autistic kids chuckling to themselves. "Heh Heh Heh this guy thinks they aren't having a meltdown, what an idiot."

Well I have news for all of you know-it-all dads out there..."Sssssssuck it!" We did't have a meltdown...we had four, so HA! Yeah we had a meltdown, and then another meltdown, then another, and finally we got a balloon sword which he promptly popped on the ground under the pine tree. WELCOME TO MELTDOWN NUMERO QUATRO!

And meltdown number four can only be described as Mt Vesuvius meets the Big Bang Theory! KABLAAMO!

So laugh it up other autistic dads, I will be fully prepared for a meltdown anytime we head to an activity.

Suck on that!

Now on to the perspective shift. Among those that attended were some other "special needs" children. Special needs, I never thought I would be in THAT line, in that egg hunt, and not mistakenly being there. "Excuse me sir this is the special needs egg hunt, you and your son want the 8 - 10 year old hunt over there." Nope that wasn't us, there we were "belonging." It's a surreal moment when you actually realize that you are playing by a different set of rules.

The egg hunt started and I purposefully turned to see the 8 - 10 year old hunt...in a word bedlam. Spirit would have been land blasted and we would probably have experienced meltdown #4 early. Welcome to Holland Wayman Family, because on the other hand Brayden was with other "special needs" kids at the hunt and made pretty quick work of the eggs they had spread on the ground. So here we are, halfway between special needs, and the "normal" kids. That's where you will find the Wayman family.

I looked around the special needs part of the egg hunt and found Brayden to be severely high functioning compared to the other kids around me. These kids and parents were playing by the "special needs" rules, and the kids at the other hunt had the "normal" rule book. And here we were...no rule book for us.

"Here you go sir, here is your rule book."

"But ma'am you just handed me both rule books."

"I know," she says "Ya see both apply at different times."

"Oh," we say nodding. "Well great, so when do we use this one and when do we use that one?"

"I'm sure I have no idea," she says "I just hand out the books."

"Well who do we see about this?"

"Like I said sir I just hand out the books...next."

So there we stand not knowing what to do or where to turn. Looking around the special needs egg hunt knowing that he doesn't really belong there. Then casting a glance at the other hunt and realizing that he doesn't really belong there either. The only place he really belongs is here, with us, and with those that understand and love him.

No pressure.

Welcome to Superlativeville

I don't know if it is one of the tendencies of a child with High Functioning Autism, or if it is simply a characteristic of my son, but we have been living in an interesting town lately. The best name for the town  is Superlativeville. Spirit has been moving into the extreme of all situations. We had a little disagreement and I told him I wasn't going to play the game with him anymore. To which he promptly replied, "So you won't play with me ever again?" I tried to explain that I was simply talking about the situation we were in at the time, but he was very distraught that we weren't ever going to play again.

Welcome to Superlativeville, population: Spirit.

I have to keep this in mind as this tendency seems to be penetrating all of his interpretive and cognitive practices. Every interaction is very black or white, especially for those people that don't exist in Spirit's "box" as I like to call it. Spirit has a box, and that box is filled with people that he trusts, and he trusts them with his autistic tendencies. This is probably why we have such a hard time explaining to people that Spirit is HFA (High Functioning Autistic), he is so good at "turning it off" when he is placed in a situation full of people outside his "box" it is often hard for people to see the tendencies.

Spirit lives in Superlativeville, and that is why interactions are so difficult at times. For example there is a young man at school that either doesn't play with Spirit, or is passive about playing with him. This resulted in a conversation with Heart where he expressed that this particular young man "hates me." And there we are smack dab in the middle of Superlativeville. Thing is that all of the streets in Superlativeville run parallel there are no cross streets. Which means you are either on Best Friends Lane or Hate You Way. See what I mean, there is no cross street that a lot of us are on called Acquaintance Avenue. You are either on Best Friends Lane or Hate You Way, and the thing is that most kids don't even end up on a lane at all they are stuck watching Spirit from outside the city limits wondering why they can't seem to connect with anyone inside Superlativeville. The thing is there aren't any phones in this place, just a bunch of parallel streets leading to nowhere. Heart and I have become very familiar with many of the streets in Superlativeville. We have found that what we thought was Maybe Later Blvd. was actually a toll road to Never Going To Happen Lane, and be careful because that toll is one major meltdown. As Heart and I try to find a map to this happy little place, we find that the roads are always changing and the landmarks that could once be counted on to direct us are now completely changed.

All the while Spirit is trying to navigate the roads himself and finding it very difficult. Partly because he hates it when people try to construct crossroads. He is happy in Superlativeville. I mean let's face it if someone loves you then you can predict their behavior, if they hate you there is a similar predictability. It's those pesky cross streets that leave things up to interpretation.

I hope to one day get the map to Superlativeville, so that I can effectively assist Spirit in navigating its streets.

For now we are still looking up.