Scout Camp

Having a son with Autism, even high functioning, creates a myriad of issues that most people never really think about. Well, not necessarily issues, but …situations may be a better description. And not necessarily actual situations, but ones that I play out in my head, trying to figure out which event will cause the best outcome. Wow, this is harder than I thought to describe.  Perhaps an example would be better.

Smoke alarms.  Great, right? Right! And the experts say that you should have one in every room (well, maybe not the closet, or the bathroom, but you get the idea). Having bought  a house that was built before everyone figured that we needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap, they only installed one smoke alarm, in the main hallway. So, kids born, smoke alarms go up. Which is great, until my son starts having fits about the smoke alarm light (you know, the green or red light that says “yes, I am still working, even if you never hear me”). The fits got so bad, that I finally took the alarm out of his room because he would have a complete meltdown every time he went in there. (Don’t worry, I will provide the phone number to the local child welfare authorities at the end of this e-mail.) Then he started refusing to go upstairs due to the red light on the smoke alarm in the hallway.  So now that one is covered with electrical tape-the red light, not the entire alarm. But when I finished the basement and put one in there, ZERO issue.

The point is this; things that sound great on paper, may work some of the time, or work this week but not next. He may say he wants to go to Skate City, but as soon as he gets to roller skating, he then wants to go home because the disco lights are blue, and we can’t stay. And you have to leave, because if you don’t, all hell breaks loose.

That was an extremely long set up to talk about Scout Camp, wasn’t it? So CJ has been in Scouts for over two years now, and I have always been hesitant to commit to overnight camping. If it is just the four of us going camping, that is one thing. If we need to turn around at 11 at night and pack up and go home, no biggie. But to pay money, make commitments, and have people rely on you when you may have to bail, that is a bigger issue. But this year I bit the bullet when I saw how excited my son was to go.

I figured the excitement would wear off as the date got closer…however when I got home from work on Friday, my son came out in the garage wearing his hat, coat and gloves, and got in the car and waited. So the first hurdle was behind us. My next fear would be a few hours later, when we bedded down for the night. CJ has always been one that is afraid of the dark at bedtime, even though he hates to have a night-light on in his room. (Irony is usually lost on him.) However, we uneventfully set up the tent in the dark, and as we bedded down for the night, he asked me to tell him a scary story, and then went right to sleep.

CJ and his friend in front of our tent - that is his stuffed puppy on his head

The next day as I watched the other scouts and their parents around the camp, I came to the conclusion (perhaps falsely) that a large number of Cub Scouts are made up of two groups; those whose fathers were in Scouts, and those children who are socially awkward, be it due to physical or mental ailment, or just ‘cause. Don’t get me wrong, I am not knocking Scouts. I think it is a fantastic program, and I plan on encouraging my son to stay with it for as long as possible.  But if there is a scale for socially awkward with normal on the far right, and awkward on the left, he would most definitely be on the left. We have left the Scout meetings on more than one occasion to have my son break down in the car on the way home, about something trivial (at least to me) that happened in the previous hour, that has culminated in his mind to this massive issue. The part that makes it worse is that he gets that he doesn’t fit in, but doesn’t understand why.

 (Learning how to sharpen his knife)

The most bitter-sweet moment came that night, after dinner. CJ complained that he wasn’t feeling well, so we started to walk back to our tent for him to lay down. After we were out of sight and ear-shot of the other campers, he broke down crying, saying that he missed his mom and his sister. Tough sometimes to face the fact that you aren’t EVERYTHING in the world to your kids, even for one weekend.

(Sharpening his knife - getting ready for the hunt)

Being socially awkward can get you teased, we all know that…be it one of the teased or the teaser. It saddens me to think about it. But for me, I caught a glimmer of hope this past weekend. Sunday morning, before breakfast, CJ and his friend were sitting at one of the tables talking when some other kids started calling them names. For the sake of full disclosure, I got all of this information from another parent who witnessed it…I was busy packing the car. Don’t know which boys, or if they were scouts or siblings. What I do know, at least from the other parent, is that when the name calling started, my son, very politely said “Can you please not call me names?” One of the boys replied that they weren’t calling CJ names; they were calling his friend names. To which he replied “Do NOT call my friend names.”  Made me proud to hear him advocate, not only for himself, but also for a friend.

(Earned his whittling chip - perhaps he should look at what he is cutting)

So all told, we made it through an entire weekend without having to leave early, and without any meltdowns. And no I don’t consider homesickness to be a meltdown. I think that most parents of autistic children run much like the Boy Scouts; Be Prepared. You are always thinking about a backup plan, in case life decides to take a shit all over your current one. Luckily, this time we didn’t need it.