What does Autism look like?
Most of the time in our home, Autism looks like this:
Occasionally though, it can look like a kid losing his mind in Walmart...which was the case today.
Christopher had a fabulous day with his friends out in the world. His aide and buddy, Susan, took him on a trip with her daughter and nieces to the art museum to the special Halloween kids day. He painted a sugar skull, did some spin art, watched as his friends tried fried insects. After that, they hit Jason's deli. Christopher ate well and had a frozen yogurt. To make the day even more special, they stopped by the local playland at Mickey D's.
All of this was wonderful and exciting...He had a blast. By the time that I met up with them at playland, Christopher was already showing signs that he was a teeny bit overstimulated. He had begun pacing and rubbing different parts of his face.
Shortly after I noticed that, we left. This afternoon was the first time in a five days that I wasn't in full on battle mode against the-headache-that-just-won't-leave. Beau has been working 55+ hour work weeks since we returned from Ike-evacuation. All of this means that I am in dire need of hitting the local Walmart to collect Christopher's medication, Delaney's diapers, toilet paper, and body wash for the lot of us.
I went through the drive thru and bought us a couple of happy meals---as promised. He got the cheeseburger meal and I got the 6 piece nugget meal.
So far, so good.
We make it to Walmart, and I assess our chance to have a successful trip...He seems to be in good spirits and it is going to be a quick trip. He isn't rubbing his arms or face and he is able to focus on my eyes when I talk to him. So I am pretty sure that we've got a fairly good chance of making it through this trip with everything on our list and our dignity intact.
Wow. I was so wrong.
As soon as we walk in, Christopher tells me that he has to pee...Public restrooms are a challenge for him. The smells and sounds of commercial restrooms bother him greatly. To add to the standard disturbance that public restrooms usually cause, our Walmart chose to paint today. The wet paint sign was taped to the front door and urged caution.
The first thing that hits our noses is an overwhelming shit smell.---FYI: I'd love to smack the women who are going into public bathrooms, shitting all over toilets and floors, and not cleaning up after themselves. Don't let me ever catch anyone leaving a scene like that.---I will mortify them in front of the world. No lie.
Christopher covers his face with his shirt and tells me that the lights are loud today...and they were really HUMMING today. I am thankful, however, that they weren't flickering.
We had barely entered the bathroom, when a woman pushes her way into one of the stalls. After she is in the stall, she peeks out and asks me if I was waiting for that one...
So, Christopher is in the FILTHY second stall---trying to cover his face with his shirt, cover his ears, and pull down his pants. You may be wondering, "Why is Christopher trying to cover his ears?" The answer is simple: He knew that the lady who was in the next stall would eventually want to flush the obnoxiously loud toilet.
He couldn't pee until the woman had already peed, farted, flushed, and left. That's right---she didn't wash her hands. Ew. At least we didn't have to worry about her using the hand dryer.
He pees, pulls up his pants and kicks the flush handle...all the while keeping his nose covered with his shirt and covering his ears.
We wash our hands and leave the bathroom, and I notice that he is starting to fall apart just a little. So, I decide to skip all of the "extra stuff" (body washes and diapers) and just get his medication...We had to have it today because he took his last dose this morning.
On our way to the pharmacy, he sees a million things that he MUST look at===and I try to placate him by allowing him extra time to browse. I also tell him that we will go to the special Halloween store and buy him a special costume today or tomorrow---but only if he is a good boy while we are in Walmart.
In the minutes that it takes to get to the pharmacy from the bathroom (opposite sides of the store), Christopher takes a dark turn. He starts rubbing his face and chewing the skin from the ends of his fingers. He begins whining more and more. Directly in our path is the display of costumes. NONE of these costumes are on Christopher's wish list---there are literally NO superhero costumes in sight. Also, after several years of buying costumes, we've learned that you can't buy the Walmart stock because they are really only made for short usage. Christopher likes to wear his costumes year round. SO, we avoid the costumes at Walmart for the most part.
He asks me if he can have the Optimus Prime costume that is right next to us...It is a 5/6...Christopher is currently wearing a 10/12---and THAT is SNUG.
I told him that this costume is too small and that we're going to the special Halloween store later if he is a good boy. Usually, this works.
Today, Christopher launched himself backward. He nearly cracked his head on the shelf behind him. He laid on the ground and cried.
An older couple walked past and the woman said, "SOMEONE'S throwing a fit."
I looked at her with hate in my eyes and venom in my voice and said, "Really, I hadn't noticed."
She genuinely looked surprised, hurt and offended...
What the fuck did she think would be my response to her intrusive and rude comment?
So, I keep my tone even and level and tell Christopher that we have to leave Walmart now. We'll be back later when we can be calm. I reminded him that we were going to the special costume store later if he would be a good boy right now.
It didn't work. He laid there and cried for about a minute (which felt much longer) before he got up. With Delaney's carseat in one hand and Christopher holding my other hand, I begin the awkward march through Walmart toward the front door.
We had to stop several times because he threw himself to the ground to cry.
When we finally made it to the exit, Christopher throws himself down once more...this time with more force. I had just enough time to notice the new tile...It looked really hard. I didn't want him to really hurt himself (this time his descent was lead by the back of his head). I held his grasp tightly and let him go when the rest of his body was on the ground. (Pretty sure that he pulled my shoulder slightly out of socket...it really hurts.) He screamed like a banshee that I broke his hand.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Here, in all of this chaos, our family's tendency to use hyperbole in every day conversation is biting me in the ass.
Hahaha...
Let's add hyperbole to the list of things that are "no sirs" now.
I managed to get him into the car, lock Delaney's seat into place, buckle up and head out.
All the while, people gaped openly at my child and me.
I managed to avoid raising my voice during the whole incident, but I did tell him repeatedly that I was very angry and sad at his behavior.
As we drove home, I explained to Christopher that he was grounded from his favorite movies until Friday. No Iron Man or Christmas Story for one week.
When we entered the house, he immediately bolted for his room---intent on stopping me from taking his movies. I calmly went in, took the movies from his hands. I told him that he could have them back on Friday if he was a good boy for the rest of the week.
That is when he grabbed my arm and squeezed with every bit of strength that he could muster.
So, I grabbed his arms and pinned them to his sides. I told him that hurting Mama is bad, and that now I have to take away something else. I quickly grabbed his Iron Man action figure and told him that he could have it back on Friday if he was good.
When I walked out of his room, he screamed and began throwing things. I walked in and told him that I would take away everything that he threw. In the end, I took his television, most of his toys and DVDs, his snare drum, his DVD player and several books.
His room looks empty---and Delaney's room is cluttered with his belongings. (Her room is the easiest to lock and the least necessary of all of the rooms in the house.)
It's been a long 3 hours.
It's going to be an even longer week, but I know that it is ESSENTIAL to his development as a person to understand that his actions have consequences.
If he behaves well for the next few days, then we will still go to the costume store to buy him a special costume sometime later in the week. The pickings will be slim, but this is also part of the consequence to his actions.
In closing, let me just say that every child throwing a tantrum in Walmart isn't necessarily a bad kid in need of an "ass-whooping". Every parent dealing with those children isn't a lax, clueless person who doesn't know how to discipline their child.
You
can not spank the Autism out of a child. Screaming at him would only have made the situation worse. I handled the situation as serenely as I possibly could. We managed to leave without injury.
Every year that passes, there will be more people like Christopher and me at the store.
Autism is on the rise...and we're doing the best that we can in a world that is ill-equipped to handle us. The world does not intend on changing too much to suit our needs...and there isn't much else that I can do to more quickly change us to be better suited to it.
So, please, if you see a mother dealing with a child who is laying on the floor holding his ears and crying, withhold your criticism and stares. Go about your business if you don't plan on helping.
Or, if you can't follow this simple advice, then please don't look surprised when I tear into you.
My First Fiesta tea set for two. Two tea cups and saucers, sugar and cream containers, tea pot and two 6" plates for the sweets and cucumber sandwiches.
