What a difference a day makes!
I took Eli back to camp today. I'd gotten so much feedback on my facebook posting from my amazing friends...all saying to give it another chance. So....
I drove him over to the camp, coaching him the whole drive on what I expected from him, and what the staff would expect from him. I reminded him to watch the other children to see what they were doing, if was unsure, and told him that if he needed a break, to just TELL them.
The assistant director greeted us and Eli took his shoes off himself, stowed them and took off like a rocket. Okay, bye honey! So much for separation anxiety, right? The assistant director and I chatted for a few minutes and I thanked her for offering to try and make it work for Eli. I also gave her a heads up on overload reaction and how to try and avoid it. I told her that he takes sensory breaks at school when situations arise that stress him. At school, he is allowed to sit in a beanbag chair and regroup. I suggested that if she or the staff noticed him becoming agitated, to just offer him a break!
I motored on back to the Mothership to hang mass amounts of laundry out to dry. Our dryer broke about a week ago and I am pronouncing it DOA. The entire time he was at camp, I had my phone nearby, just in case. My family will tell you that this is unusual. I am not a slave to the phone. I frequently forget where it is, whether it is charged, whatever. Not yesterday! I obsessively checked it all afternoon, but that call never came.
At around 4:00, I drove over to campus to pick him up, getting there about 15 minutes early so I could see for myself how it was going. I stowed my flipflops in a cubby by the door and went into the big room with all the kids, not immediately seeing Eli. One of the staff, a nice young woman, pointed him out to me, working on his journal. He was deep in conversation with a photographer taking pics as I approached. The photographer is a great kid who lived in Japan for a year, so Eli had lots of questions for him. I peeked at Eli's journal and saw that he was trying to copy the characters from artwork on the wall, and it looked pretty good!
The assigned kids for clean-up started swiffering the floor and I told Eli it was time to go. As I got up, the instructor for the camp approached me smiling, telling me that Eli had asked for a schedule of the day's activities at the beginning of the session. She typed up a schedule for him and showed it to me. Wow! What a great idea! At that point in time, I was so dang proud of my little one. It made perfect sense. He likes to know what's going on and what time it's happening, so this was really an amazing thing for him to come up with ALL ON HIS OWN. Dumb old mom didn't think of it--he did!
My hat's off to Japan House and its wonderful staff. They took on a challenge with my son and they made it work. To his credit, he made it work, as well.
Autism is a challenge at times. There are so many activities that my son cannot be a part of because of it. But as time passes, I am discovering that there are just as many activities that he CAN be a part of. No, he does not play regular Little League, but he has enjoyed playing baseball with the Challenger League. No, he can't take part in many summer camps, but there are many others available that will accommodate and accept him as the wonderful addition he can be.
Opportunities are out there. My take away from this entire experience is this---Don't give up the first time you stumble or fall. Get up and get going again, and most importantly, have some fun!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sumer Camp FAIL
Heavy sigh.
Back in May, I got a heads up from Eli's aide and teachers about what seemed like a really great opportunity. Japan Art Camp held at the local University. Eli has fixated on Japan and China for the past several months, and I jumped at the chance. The camp runs for one week, from 1:00-4:30 in the afternoon. Before I officially signed him up, I spoke personally with the director of the camp. I wanted to make sure Eli would be welcome, and I also wanted to make sure that they could accommodate his needs if necessary.
I told her that he is verbal, functions fairly well, and is fascinated with Japan. We decided to give it a shot and I signed him up early, as space was limited in the program. Eli was completely thrilled about it. Yesterday was the first day of camp and I walked him in, helped him remove his shoes and stow them in a cubby, and got him settled in. He was slightly apprehensive on the drive to campus, but it quickly turned to excitement when we were walking up to the facility.
I waited for a few minutes before I left, assuring the assistant director that if any problem arose, I was a short drive away. I waited. And waited. No phone call, so I assumed it was going well. At 4:30, Jim and I picked him up. The assistant director told me that he had done very well, but had seemed ready to go a little early, and would I please talk to him about being quieter during the tea ceremony. No problem, I talked to him about it both last night and today, and he promised to be more quiet and respectful. He also had a flower arrangement to bring home, which he was pretty proud of.
Today, however, was a different story. I dropped him off at 1:00, helping him once again get settled in, reminding him to be quiet and respectful. At 2:35 I received a phone call saying Eli was not having the best time, could I please come.
I hauled ass across town, wondering what was going on. I got there, and the assistant director showed me to a small room off the hallway where one of the young people helping was sitting quietly with Eli. Eli by this time was completely calm, having a bottle of water and talking normally. The guy helping him was nice, but he said that the sensai was upset that Eli was taking so much of his attention, and wanted him to spend time with the other kids. Fine, I totally get that. Then he suggested that perhaps just a tour of the facilities might be more appropriate; that Eli might be able to handle that better. A tour? Really?
I asked him what had gotten Eli so upset. The kids were working on a project painting characters for a "scroll" and he had gotten bored, so he quit working on it.
When the sensai came around to look at the kids' scrolls, Eli was upset that his was so incomplete, and he said he would rather have the nice one from Japan that was on display on the wall. No, duh, who wouldn't want that one instead? At that point, apparently, all hell broke loose and Eli started crying.
I took Eli up front to put his shoes on and get him out of there. Tears were stinging my eyes with the frustration of my child once again being excluded. The assistant director stood nearby and when I had finished getting him ready to go, she tried to talk to me, but I really wasn't in a mood to talk. I shared with her my frustration about my son being excluded and the lack of ANY decent programs for kids like him. At that point, she mentioned Larkin's Place, which is a yet to be built inclusive play place for kids with disabilities. At that point, I snapped. I told her that Larkin's Place is years away from completion, and that wasn't really helping my child right now.
I drove home barely containing myself. Jim was home when I got here, and I fell apart. I am so freaking sick of my son being excluded.
I open my email and there is a note from the assistant director of the program apologizing for saying exactly all the wrong things to me. She also said that they would really like to make the program work for Eli. I don't know what to do. I feel so crappy about the whole experience right now. Plus, if I were to take him back tomorrow, I would hold my breath the whole time, waiting for that phone call telling me to come and get him early. So what do I do? Do I take him back, fully aware that another episode could send him right back home, making him feel left out? Should I take that chance?
Back in May, I got a heads up from Eli's aide and teachers about what seemed like a really great opportunity. Japan Art Camp held at the local University. Eli has fixated on Japan and China for the past several months, and I jumped at the chance. The camp runs for one week, from 1:00-4:30 in the afternoon. Before I officially signed him up, I spoke personally with the director of the camp. I wanted to make sure Eli would be welcome, and I also wanted to make sure that they could accommodate his needs if necessary.
I told her that he is verbal, functions fairly well, and is fascinated with Japan. We decided to give it a shot and I signed him up early, as space was limited in the program. Eli was completely thrilled about it. Yesterday was the first day of camp and I walked him in, helped him remove his shoes and stow them in a cubby, and got him settled in. He was slightly apprehensive on the drive to campus, but it quickly turned to excitement when we were walking up to the facility.
I waited for a few minutes before I left, assuring the assistant director that if any problem arose, I was a short drive away. I waited. And waited. No phone call, so I assumed it was going well. At 4:30, Jim and I picked him up. The assistant director told me that he had done very well, but had seemed ready to go a little early, and would I please talk to him about being quieter during the tea ceremony. No problem, I talked to him about it both last night and today, and he promised to be more quiet and respectful. He also had a flower arrangement to bring home, which he was pretty proud of.
Today, however, was a different story. I dropped him off at 1:00, helping him once again get settled in, reminding him to be quiet and respectful. At 2:35 I received a phone call saying Eli was not having the best time, could I please come.
I hauled ass across town, wondering what was going on. I got there, and the assistant director showed me to a small room off the hallway where one of the young people helping was sitting quietly with Eli. Eli by this time was completely calm, having a bottle of water and talking normally. The guy helping him was nice, but he said that the sensai was upset that Eli was taking so much of his attention, and wanted him to spend time with the other kids. Fine, I totally get that. Then he suggested that perhaps just a tour of the facilities might be more appropriate; that Eli might be able to handle that better. A tour? Really?
I asked him what had gotten Eli so upset. The kids were working on a project painting characters for a "scroll" and he had gotten bored, so he quit working on it.
When the sensai came around to look at the kids' scrolls, Eli was upset that his was so incomplete, and he said he would rather have the nice one from Japan that was on display on the wall. No, duh, who wouldn't want that one instead? At that point, apparently, all hell broke loose and Eli started crying.
I took Eli up front to put his shoes on and get him out of there. Tears were stinging my eyes with the frustration of my child once again being excluded. The assistant director stood nearby and when I had finished getting him ready to go, she tried to talk to me, but I really wasn't in a mood to talk. I shared with her my frustration about my son being excluded and the lack of ANY decent programs for kids like him. At that point, she mentioned Larkin's Place, which is a yet to be built inclusive play place for kids with disabilities. At that point, I snapped. I told her that Larkin's Place is years away from completion, and that wasn't really helping my child right now.
I drove home barely containing myself. Jim was home when I got here, and I fell apart. I am so freaking sick of my son being excluded.
I open my email and there is a note from the assistant director of the program apologizing for saying exactly all the wrong things to me. She also said that they would really like to make the program work for Eli. I don't know what to do. I feel so crappy about the whole experience right now. Plus, if I were to take him back tomorrow, I would hold my breath the whole time, waiting for that phone call telling me to come and get him early. So what do I do? Do I take him back, fully aware that another episode could send him right back home, making him feel left out? Should I take that chance?
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