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The Weekend
Apr. 26th, 2009 10:45 pmSaturday: Took Cal to the Ontario Science Center, as part of a low-price ticket special arranged by Autism Ontario. Probably...an hour and a half to get there, an hour and a half before he finally had an overload freakout (in the rainforest environment exhibit) that signaled it was time to leave, then an hour and a half to get back. The good part was in between--OSC's Kid's Park, particularly the large cave full of mirrors (somewhat like being inside a geode) and anything to do with water-play. He was less impressed than I thought he'd be with the instruments and "rock video"-making room, but they were pretty rudimentary and also very crowded; there was a third room in which your shadows were cast onto the wall, then "psychadelicized" somehow in ways that made you look like guest stars on The Hilarious House of Frightenstein's Wolf Man segment: Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's a gas gas gas... (And even as I write this, I totally get that this is a reference only Candians/Ontarioans will probably understand, yet I don't care. It's what first came to mind.;))
Sunday: Again, a long trip full of potential stressors, yet he dealt with it fairly handily. We had promised to come by Steve's sister's house after Cal's cousin Meg's First Communion--tried to get there "faster" by taking the Sherbourne bus up to Sherbourne Station, then the Bloor subway along to Victoria Park, but this proved to be the only Sunday in the history of the world on which said bus was running thirty minutes late. We got there about two hours into the party, where Cal dealt with matters by fielding the shrieking group of kids he mainly didn't know ably and staying amazingly interactive, but losing every last bit of his language; at one point he went upstairs, got a chair twice his own size, dragged it to the kitchen breakfast buffet we were all talking around, climbed up on it and pounded on the buffet making imperious "eee!" "EEE!" noises until we figured out by trial and error what he wanted: Drink? Nope. Vegetables? Nope. Rice cakes? Yes! And now a drink? Yes! Luckily, the other guests/our hosts mainly found this cute rather than obnoxious.
Then, after we left--now all incredibly hungry, due to coming so late most of the food way gone--we ended up at City Grill for dinner, where he was loud but happy and, once more, cooperative. We walked up to Shopper's Drug Mark at College to pick up some stuff, then stepped into some gaming shop on the way back for a second...and that's where he had his meltdown. It lasted all the way home: "Eee! EEE! Oh MY! OUCH! [That one's new.]" Flail, hit out, gut-wrenching scream of protest; softer: "Okay, all right. All right. OKAY, ALL RIGHT? OKAY?" While I just kept saying, calmly: "We're going home, bunny. Almost there. Ten minutes. No, we can't go any faster. It takes as long as it takes."
On both evenings, the decompression--once home--was swift and fairly efficient; he ran to our room, let us take his clothes off, change him, soothe him, then spent maybe fifteen minutes "rehearsing" going to bed, happily...burying himself under the duvet, under pillows, singing "Trust in Me" (Kaa the boa constrictor's song, from The Jungle Book), parroting other relevant dialogue: "Yeessss, go to ssssleep, little man-cub--ssssleep, little man-cub, ressst in peacssse..." After which we stuck him in his crib, brushed his teeth, shut off the light, said good night, and left him to complain for maybe--five minutes or so, before going completely slack.
The other thing which helps? He's now very attached to a little black Gund monkey someone bought him, treating it like "his" kid and acting out scenarios with it, definitely drawing comfort from it either way--so we brought that along, on both trips. Imaginative play: Another thing you sometimes hear ASD kids "don't", or "can't", do. He certainly didn't/couldn't himself, just last year. So that's good.;))
My own stuff? Gone by the wayside, mainly, after a pleasant date night on Friday. Worked out twice. Watched the Caprica miniseries and JT Petty's The Burrowers, both of which I liked a lot; Caprica's real old-school-style spec fic science fiction, a pre-Fall scenario which benefits from being even more similar to "our" reality than BSG was, until you realize it's basically the Roman Empire with near-future tech. I sort of wish people could experience it without the benfit of--pre-sight?, in terms of knowing who the players will eventually become/influence--but know that's unlikely/improbable. The Burrowers, OTOH, is a smart Weird West monster-movie, full of tragically accurate psychology and politics, plus creepy nature up the wing-wang. A very interesting double feature, easing us into...
Monday: Da Grind, part whatever--JK, Rod, Jump-Start, Social Skills. I'm tired already. But now I have to get dresed, go out and doa last-minute restock/start building my Swine Flu preparedness box, before I fall over. 'Night, all.
Sunday: Again, a long trip full of potential stressors, yet he dealt with it fairly handily. We had promised to come by Steve's sister's house after Cal's cousin Meg's First Communion--tried to get there "faster" by taking the Sherbourne bus up to Sherbourne Station, then the Bloor subway along to Victoria Park, but this proved to be the only Sunday in the history of the world on which said bus was running thirty minutes late. We got there about two hours into the party, where Cal dealt with matters by fielding the shrieking group of kids he mainly didn't know ably and staying amazingly interactive, but losing every last bit of his language; at one point he went upstairs, got a chair twice his own size, dragged it to the kitchen breakfast buffet we were all talking around, climbed up on it and pounded on the buffet making imperious "eee!" "EEE!" noises until we figured out by trial and error what he wanted: Drink? Nope. Vegetables? Nope. Rice cakes? Yes! And now a drink? Yes! Luckily, the other guests/our hosts mainly found this cute rather than obnoxious.
Then, after we left--now all incredibly hungry, due to coming so late most of the food way gone--we ended up at City Grill for dinner, where he was loud but happy and, once more, cooperative. We walked up to Shopper's Drug Mark at College to pick up some stuff, then stepped into some gaming shop on the way back for a second...and that's where he had his meltdown. It lasted all the way home: "Eee! EEE! Oh MY! OUCH! [That one's new.]" Flail, hit out, gut-wrenching scream of protest; softer: "Okay, all right. All right. OKAY, ALL RIGHT? OKAY?" While I just kept saying, calmly: "We're going home, bunny. Almost there. Ten minutes. No, we can't go any faster. It takes as long as it takes."
On both evenings, the decompression--once home--was swift and fairly efficient; he ran to our room, let us take his clothes off, change him, soothe him, then spent maybe fifteen minutes "rehearsing" going to bed, happily...burying himself under the duvet, under pillows, singing "Trust in Me" (Kaa the boa constrictor's song, from The Jungle Book), parroting other relevant dialogue: "Yeessss, go to ssssleep, little man-cub--ssssleep, little man-cub, ressst in peacssse..." After which we stuck him in his crib, brushed his teeth, shut off the light, said good night, and left him to complain for maybe--five minutes or so, before going completely slack.
The other thing which helps? He's now very attached to a little black Gund monkey someone bought him, treating it like "his" kid and acting out scenarios with it, definitely drawing comfort from it either way--so we brought that along, on both trips. Imaginative play: Another thing you sometimes hear ASD kids "don't", or "can't", do. He certainly didn't/couldn't himself, just last year. So that's good.;))
My own stuff? Gone by the wayside, mainly, after a pleasant date night on Friday. Worked out twice. Watched the Caprica miniseries and JT Petty's The Burrowers, both of which I liked a lot; Caprica's real old-school-style spec fic science fiction, a pre-Fall scenario which benefits from being even more similar to "our" reality than BSG was, until you realize it's basically the Roman Empire with near-future tech. I sort of wish people could experience it without the benfit of--pre-sight?, in terms of knowing who the players will eventually become/influence--but know that's unlikely/improbable. The Burrowers, OTOH, is a smart Weird West monster-movie, full of tragically accurate psychology and politics, plus creepy nature up the wing-wang. A very interesting double feature, easing us into...
Monday: Da Grind, part whatever--JK, Rod, Jump-Start, Social Skills. I'm tired already. But now I have to get dresed, go out and doa last-minute restock/start building my Swine Flu preparedness box, before I fall over. 'Night, all.
