Jimmy Dugan: Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!

          Tom Hanks, A League of Their Own

Oh, how I wish I knew how and where to begin this. Over the past seven (wow, seven, really??!?) months, I have sat down on multiple occasions to try to pound out something or other on the computer to add to my blog (and if you are now envisioning the monkeys with the bone in the movie 2001, or Derek Zoolander pounding on the computer to get the files in Zoolander, then that’s about right), but nothing seems to feel complete. Sure there are plenty of times I read something that sets me off, and I start jumping up on my soap-box, only to say “whoa, whoa, easy now. No need to show everyone out there your truly crazy side.” I wish I had the dedication to post with decent regularity, like Jim who writes “Just a Lil Blog” about his autistic daughter, (Great site, definitely worth the read) but I don’t. Not sure why. I have a ton of excuses, but no real answers. So for now I hope you enjoy (and I hope I know where to begin).

I have a strong sentimental side. I am not ashamed to admit it. Even though my mom was tougher than most Navy Seals, and I had no sisters, I wasn't raised in one of those houses where you weren't allowed to cry. Now, that’s not to say that I am weepy. I was able to hold it together when I read my mother’s eulogy, remain stoic when my daughter went in for a 2-hour surgery when she was 5, and remain laser focused when the doctor handed us CJ’s diagnosis. But watching Terms of Endearment or A Walk to Remember always makes me misty.

Why do I share this, you ask? Because the times that I get the most emotional is when I watch my kids succeed. The most recent example of this came a week ago Friday, when my son crossed over from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts.

 

(CJ waiting for his name to be called)

A little back-story first: In first grade, CJ decided to join Cub Scouts. Not sure why. I was never a Cub/Boy Scout, and never gave much thought to the matter. When asked if I was one in my youth, I would to joke that no, but I used beat up a lot of boy scouts as a kid. The closest I ever came was the court-ordered year I spent in Y-Indian Guides, YMCA’s answer to the Boy Scouts. But, I digress. 2010, First Grade, CJ jumps in with both feet, into the Cub Scout world. Well, not both feet, maybe one. Well, OK maybe just a big toe. But, HE decides. The wife and I, we have had nothing to do with the decision, and I mean zero. And because of that, we were always very supportive of whatever he wanted to do with Scouts. You want to go to a three day Twilight Camp that falls during your birthday? Sure! You want to go camping in a tent in the mountains with your troop, even though the weatherman forecasts snow and 80 mile-an-hour winds? You bet! (And yes, the weatherman was right on both counts.) I have to work late, so you want your mom to come to the meeting and teach all of your friends to build a trebuchet? Absolutely.

That’s not to say that everything went as smooth as silk, because that would be a lie. He almost quit at the end of his first year, and there were plenty of meeting nights that he begrudgingly went, and even a few that he missed. Not to mention CJ’s lack of tolerance for the kids that didn’t take the meetings seriously. On many nights during the drive home, I would get an earful, as CJ would repeat over and over about how this boy was running around the classroom during the whole meeting, or how that boy wouldn't stop talking. But my biggest struggle was CJ’s seemingly complete lack of engagement at the meetings. Often I would sit in the back, feeling frustrated by him not participating or even appearing to almost fall asleep.

But Last Friday was the big day. The “graduation” day from Cub to Boy Scouts. A large ceremony was held, with dinner and a show, and at the end, the boys crossed over a bridge where a member of their new Boy Scout troop greeted them and presented them with a new neckerchief. And that is where I lost it. Well, sort of lost it. Let’s just say that my eyes started leaking. As I stood there watching, I reflected back on the previous 4.5 years, and all of the progress that he made, challenges he overcame, and lessons he learned.

 

(CJ getting his new neckerchief)

Yes, I cried. And I am OK with that. For me, there is no greater reason for me to shed some tears then for the pride of both of my kids. I am constantly amazed at how far my son has come, and how much he continues to grow. And I am also always in a state of happy shock at my daughter, who is constantly stepping up to help out either her parents or her brother, all the while tackling her own life and issues.

 

(after the ceremony, on the bridge. If CJ looks a bit off, it's because he is about to break down himself)

So, next time you see me crying, instead of looking away, please feel free to offer me a tissue. 

Go take a hike!

Harry Dunne: I expected the Rocky Mountains to be a little rockier than this.

Lloyd Christmas: I was thinking the same thing. That John Denver's full of shit, man.

Dumb and Dumber

          I am back! Sorry I have been away from this board for so long. I could make up a laundry list of reasons (read: excuses) as to why haven’t posted for so long, but the bottom line is that none of that really matters. What does matter, and the reason I currently post this on a completely infrequent basis, is to share my experiences in the hopes that they might help anyone out there.

This past March, a long-time friend of mine shared that she and her husband were training to take on the Incline, in Manitou Springs. For those that are unfamiliar, think a StairMaster on steroids. Seriously. Just look at this thing.

This is looking down the trail...

This is looking up...

To give you an example, apparently Kevin Bacon was here last week, (yes, THAT Kevin Bacon) and took on the incline. Check it out; http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/local-news/actor-kevin-bacon-tackles-colorados-incline-trail-in-manitou-springs, and said it almost killed him. True story.

When I told my wife about it, she said that we should plan a hike with the kids. To give you some perspective, we attempted to scale a 14er last year (Mount Bierstadt, at 14,065 feet). I say attempted, because the climb up the mountain was, for all intents and purposes, a colossal struggle, to say the least. It started with the complaining about being tired and then hungry, followed by him having to go pee about every quarter-mile, soon to be followed with a headache, and then finished off with altitude sickness. Needless to say, we didn’t make the peak. At about 500 vertical feet shy of the top, my son and I had to turn around and hike back down the mountain, while my wife and daughter finished what we started. The worst part is that my son lacks the endurance for distances. About every 100-200 yards, he would want to sit down and take a quick rest.

This was Mt. Bierstadt last year, at the start of the hike...

This is where CJ had to bail out last year.

Diane and Jackie made it to the top!

So when my wife suggested we make it a family outing, needless to say, I was a bit apprehensive. While the Incline is no 14er, it is a strenuous climb, going up 2000 feet in less than a mile, with some parts of the climb reaching over a 70 degree incline. Like this:

Not one to shy away from a challenge, I hesitantly agreed, bracing myself for the worst. We started by preparing CJ for what was to come, explaining that it would be a difficult hike, with an early start, and probably a long day all around.

One of the things I realized on the climb is that you have a lot of time to think, mainly because after the first two or three hundred steps, you find it difficult to talk, due to you trying to do other minor things, like breathe. And as I climbed, I started thinking about the similarities the hike had to our struggle with CJ’s autism. Often times, you struggle to make it up the hill, feeling like so many other families are doing better than you, while you struggle to find your footing. At other times, all you want to do is sit down, wondering if you even have the strength to go on. Then there are times that you need help to get past the next hurdle, or times when you help others to get through something that you were able to conquer. But no matter what, you keep going, pushing past levels you thought were possible, trying to reach another goal.

Us taking a rest and a snack.

The amazing thing is that there were no complaints, no headaches, and virtually no potty breaks. (The hike down was a different story) Near the end of the uphill part of the journey, the kids went ahead of us to the summit and waited, while my wife and I worked our way up the mountain. It took us an additional 20 minutes to get up to them, and at the end, as we approached the top, my wife looked up and saw them sitting at the last “step”, cheering us on. As I looked at them, I knew THAT was why we did all of this, and that we should never lose sight of that fact.

Us at the top!

Look at how far we came!

I hope that all of you are able to summit the struggles you work through every day.

Oh, and by the way, my friend that turned me on to this adventure, she had to take the bailout point, which is about 2/3 of the way up the hike. Sorry Mari, maybe next year?

M is for Movies..

I do not see plays, because I can nap at home for free. And I don't see movies 'cause they're trash, and they got nothin' but naked people in 'em! And I don't read books, 'cause if they're any good, they're gonna make 'em into a miniseries. – Shirley MacLaine

            Movies can be a fantastic release from our everyday lives. They make us laugh and cry, inspire us, remind us of days gone by or of hopes and dreams to come. But from what I can see, from the mind of an ASD child, they don’t see the movies the same way that everyone else does.  Going to the movies seems to be a stimulation (and often over-stimulation) of all of the senses at the same time. The sights of the people around them as well as the movie, sounds of said same, smells of a dozen different things at once, the touch and feel of the theater chairs and floor and piped-in air, and if the parent is willing enough, or is begged enough (guilty on both counts), the tastes of the popcorn, candy, and/or drinks.

From my son’s perspective, it is another tool to ask questions and learn as much as he can about some random facts, that I am sure he is storing somewhere for later use. Sometimes movies can turn into a bizarre episode of Larry King, with a litany of questions about details of the movie, especially when we are watching a movie at home. And if we are watching a science fiction movie, the questions come even more frequently and require even more detail. My wife and I joke that we might have the only 9 year-old well versed in the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory (Stargate), string-theory of time travel (Doctor Who), and warp travel through space (Star Trek, of course). Watching a 2 hour movie at home usually takes about three hours, with me keeping the remote close at hand to be able to pause the movie at a moment’s notice. 

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah bud?” I ask as I press the pause button on the remote.

“So, why are there an army of robots trying to destroy all those ships?” (Batalstar Galactica)

“Well, you see, the humans created the robots. And then the robots got smarter than the humans and decided they could live without us, and wanted to destroy us.”

“Then why didn’t humans just turn them off? And stop making so many of them?”

To which I reply something to the effect that people must get dumber in the future, and that seems to stop the questions, almost a full 10 minutes. And then…

“Dad?”

“Uh-huh?” I ask, pausing the movie again.

“If they park all of those little ships in the big ships, how do they turn them around? And do they need to be washed like a car does?”

And on it goes, me trying to explain the inner workings of a movie or show that am probably not paying that much attention to anyway, and him absorbing and asking logical questions about something set so far in the future that it may never happen, but wanting to understand anyway.



My son, studying how to build his own car-turned-robot...and my daughter thinking she has a pretty cool foot-rest



            And going out to the movies as a family is generally even more concerning than staying at home. All of the what-if scenarios play out in your head. What if he asks as many questions in the theater as he does at home? Or worse, what if he becomes over-stimulated and has a meltdown? What if he can’t sit still or decides to yell at the movie screen? I have heard some parents say that they don’t take their ASD child to the movies because they don’t want to take their child out of his/her comfort zone, but sometimes what I think they feel is that they, themselves don’t want to get out of their own comfort zone. Please don’t misunderstand. I am not judging, by any stretch of the imagination and I can totally relate. Often I find that I would rather stay at home with a ice-cold adult beverage and the college game on TV, then to venture outside the safety of my four walls.

            But we wanted to make sure both of our children would have a chance to experience seeing a movie on the big-screen. We didn’t want Jackie to miss out just because my wife and I were too nervous about what Christopher MIGHT do. So we decided to take him (and us) out of our comfort zone, and we tried to prepare for all possible situations, already knowing that we had no way of doing so. We did what we felt was the smartest thing for all involved (especially our wallets); we went to the “dollar” theater. (For the purposes of full disclosure, the move is actually $2.50 before 6pm, and $3.50 after that. It’s just easier to call it a dollar theater, in honor of the ones my wife and I used to go to when we were first married. I mean seriously what are you going to say? We went to the two dollar and fifty cent theater? Or we went to the discount movie theater? Sounds like I should be picking up a pair of Nike hightops while I am there.) We figured that way, if we had to leave early, or if he got too disruptive, we could miss some of the movie, or leave without feeling too guilty about wasting money for only 30 minutes of screen time for Jackie. Plus, if you go to the earliest matinee, generally those shows are a lot less crowded than the evening showings, and a lot less people to piss off if your kid starts to freak out.

            And the unexpected did happen, starting with neither of us calculating how much movie popcorn a five and six year-old could eat. I mean…really?!? At one point the thought of rigging up some sort of makeshift handles on the popcorn bag to put over my son’s ears, as an impromptu feed bag crossed my mind. Also, we did not plan for the 3 or 4 trips to the bathroom that he would have to make, in order to make room for more soda and popcorn. But as far as being disruptive?  The tool who got a phone call half way through the movie AND DECIDED TO TAKE IT WITHOUT LEAVING HIS SEAT, was far more of an annoyance than my son’s handful of whispered questions he would ask of me. As was the 6’3” man that decided to sit right in front of my children and partially block their view of the screen, despite the theater being only half full. And as they have gotten older and we have gone to more shows on occasion, his behavior has gotten better; I think in large part from him observing his sister and other movie-goers on how they act and react. I rarely get questions anymore when we are in the theater.

            Now on the twenty minute drive home, however……