Let Me Share this Whole New World with You

As I look around for Jacob, I find him engaging in conversation the bored teenager running the bumper cars at the indoor Family Fun Center. As I get closer, I hear Jacob ask, "So what does this ride do?"

I can tell the teenager is not in the mood to chat, so before he can reply, I say, "Jacob, come on. Let's go."

"No, Mommy, I got this."

I got this? Does he seriously want to know what the bumper cars do?

I listen as the teenage boy describes to Jacob how the ride works. 

"I want to try it," Jacob says calmly. 

Really? What? Again...really? 

"OK," I hear from behind me. It is my husband, and he is quickly getting out our card loaded with credits and ushering Jacob through the gate. My husband has been waiting for moments like this forever. I'm still somewhat in shock and processing the entire thing, as I witness Jacob getting into the bumper car as the teenage boy straps him in. My husband quickly gets in his own car, so there is no time for anyone to change their minds.

Gulp! Am I ready for this? 

My head is flooded with thoughts as the operator begins the ride. Did he strap Jacob in correctly? Does Jacob even know how to operate it? Oh, please don't let Jacob get upset. Is it going to go too fast? What if he gets hit too hard? 

As the cars begin to move, I am thankful it is just Jacob and his dad on the bumper car floor. They are headed right for each other, and I hold my breath as they bump each other for the first time. 

And there it is. Not the flood of tears we would have seen before, but instead a huge grin from ear to ear as Jacob puts his car in reverse preparing for the second hit. 

Three months ago we had wanted to take Jacob here. At the time my husband prepped him by bringing it up online so Jacob could look at pictures, giving him an idea of what to expect. We never made it. Jacob got so upset that day just at the thought of going to the family fun center. The pictures alone had been enough to send him into a shear panic. The promises of treats and unlimited games, made no impact. He was too terrified to go. It didn't matter that we said we would stay home. He cried. He screamed. He kicked. He hit. All at just the thought of going to something that should have been enjoyable. It stuck with him, and for days he kept bringing it up and getting upset. 

So when my husband brought it up the other day wanting to try again, I was hesitant. I knew Jacob had come along way since starting on his anti-anxiety medicine in May. But was he ready for this? 

But maybe the question should really be, am I ready for this?

For seven years my son has been attached to my hip, the timid child not wanting to try new things. Over the years I've watched him be the quiet observer of his peers as they tried "normal" childhood activities. I've seen him spiral out of control, getting upset over the smallest new situation. I've watched him cover his ears from loud unexpected noises more times than I can count. And I've sprinted after him when he flees out of fear. I've prodded him. I have gently pushed. And usually our attempts are met with resistance. 

But I've never seen Jacob take the lead and just decide on his own to try something new. It was exciting to witness and at the same time a little scary for me. I've wanted this moment for so long. And now it is here facing me. And as any mother, when your child ventures out on their own showing their independence, you deeply want to pull back holding on forever to that innocence, but you know you can't as it is the best thing for them.

The doctor had said that by mid July it would be a good indicator of how Jacob was responding to the medicine. In the past month Jacob has gone to numerous major league baseball games. He has rode on a jet ski (with an adult of course!). He's gone swimming in a lake and camping. He has gone to a crowded festival. He's been on a school bus. He's watched fireworks on more than one occasion. All things that before would have brought on huge anxiety and panic, and he did them calmly and willingly.

When Jacob exited the bumper cars, he was beaming. "Mommy, mommy, I want to do it again!" he yelled. "This time with you!" How could I say no to that?  As we waited for the ride to begin, I looked over at my sweet son and smiled. He smiled back from ear to ear. As we bumped into each other, I'm not sure whose grin was bigger. 

It truly is a whole new world for Jacob. So many new things to experience. And I can't wait to show it all to him.

"A whole new world
Don't you dare close your eyes
A hundred thousand things to see
Hold your breath - it gets better
I'm like a shooting star
I've come so far
I can't go back to where I used to be...

Let me share this whole new world with you"

Just thinking about all the things that Jacob may experience brings tears to my eyes. Many things that I wasn't sure he would ever be able to do. If someone would have told me even three months ago that my son would be riding on the bumper cars, I wouldn't have believed them. He truly has 'come so far'.

Later that night as we walked out to our van to head home, Jacob announced to my husband and me, "Next time I want to ride the go-carts!"

What!!!!  

Never let the Fear of Striking out, Keep you from Playing the Game

I'm sure the guy had no idea. I'm guessing he saw a dad with his young son at the ballpark ready to spend an enjoyable evening together when he graciously stepped up to my husband who was waiting in line and asked if he needed tickets. My husband was taken a little aback, expecting that the man was trying to sell them to him. What a great surprise when he realized they were a gift. Two tickets right behind the home team's dugout!

Or maybe the guy did have some idea. Maybe the large headphones atop Jacob's head drew the man to my son. I'm sure Jacob was waiting impatiently, so maybe he thought he would give this dad a break. Maybe he could sense my son's nervous demeanor, or could see that anxious look in his eye.

I'm sure Jacob was nervous. It was only his second game of the season. Certainly not the second game he has watched. He has watched and re-watched almost every game by his favorite Major League team this year. But going there is a whole different ballgame for Jacob. There no longer is the security of home, and he has to face his fears head on.

The first game my husband took him to, Jacob did great. It was a surprise and he packed him in the van and didn't tell him where they were going until they were almost to the stadium. There wasn't time for Jacob to get too anxious. He did excellent and when Jacob called to tell me about the game, I could hear in his voice how proud he was of himself. About halfway through the game he started getting a little nervous. His team was winning, and he knew that meant fireworks at the end of the game. He started asking for me, saying he wanted his mom. When that approach didn't get him results, my ever thinking child began cheering for the opposing team. What a logical approach. If the other teams wins, no fireworks! But his favorite team ended up pulling it out. They stayed the entire game, even for the fireworks at the end. Sure my husband had to hold him down through some kicking and flailing and attempts to flee, but Jacob did it.

Knowing that Jacob's psychiatrist had recommended he attend as many games as possible, he was due to go to another game. It had been a few weeks since that first game, and it had gone fairly well, so it was time to try again.

My husband came home from work, and told Jacob to change his clothes and put on one of his favorite baseball jerseys. Jacob went in and changed, but didn't make the connection until he saw his dad changing into his team wear as well.

"Daddy, are you going to the baseball game?" Jacob asked.

My husband looked at me wondering how to handle this. Do we tell him and risk the impending meltdown? Or do we continue the surprise effect to ward off any anxiety until there?

"Yes," my husband said, "and you are going, too." My husband and I were both holding our breath, waiting to see how this would play out.

"No way...," Jacob replied, but as he said it a big smile formed on his face.

That was it? No fighting? No insisting on staying home? No kicking, screaming, door slamming, running, or hiding, just "no way" and a smile. Wow!

Jacob has made HUGE progress in the last few months. It has confirmed for us that we made the correct decision starting him on anti-anxiety medicine. Sure, you could tell he was still a little uncertain, but there wasn't that crazed panic that we had seen so many times in the past.

Jacob calmly helped his dad pack a bag of treats for the game. He calmly got his stuff together, kissed me goodbye, and started talking about the game's potential outcome. Someone unfamiliar with Jacob's Aspergers and anxiety would have had no idea they were witnessing something truly amazing, and would have seen it for what it was, a dad and son heading out to the ballpark.

According to my husband, Jacob did wonderful at the game. Although a little more nervous this time walking in, his nerves were quickly calmed. As his team made hit after hit and was dominating the game, Jacob gave everyone around him high fives after each play, including the man who had given them the tickets.. Jacob even made it on the jumbo tron, just him waving at the camera with a huge smile on his face and headphones covering his ears.

My husband said the seats were great. Being right behind the dugout, Jacob was able to see all his favorite players up close. And at the end of the game, my husband yelled out to one of his favorite pitchers, who seeing Jacob grabbed a ball and tossed it up to him. Jacob came home all smiles talking a mile a minute thrilled with his "real major league" ball. And when he told me about the fireworks, it was as if it was a non event.

I hope while sitting next to my son, the generous man who gave my husband the tickets realized that out of all the potential people he could have chosen, he couldn't have made a better choice. I hope he realized how incredible my son is. I'm guessing by the end of the game, he knew that Jacob wasn't your typical young fan. I'm sure it was obvious my son's love of the game and his team. And I'm sure he enjoyed my son's knowledge of the game. I'm guessing he didn't know my son has Aspergers, but probably knew there was something different about my son. But I'm sure he didn't realize the battles and struggles it has taken for Jacob to get to this point.

This kind stranger witnessed a treasured moment. A treasured moment between father and son. An evening together at the ballpark, something taken for granted by so many dads, but not my husband. This moment, is one my husband has dreamed of for a long time.

The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave

The Fourth of July always brings back such vivid memories for me from my childhood. Every year, our family would pack up our travel trailer to go camping with our extended family at a local lake about twenty minutes from home. The town itself was small with a population of around 250 people. But it was our vacation every year, and I relished it, each year counting the days to it's arrival knowing that it would be a fun filled week spent with all my cousins.

It was a simpler time. I feel so old saying that. There were no Iphones to interrupt. No televisions. No laptops. And no air conditioning for cooling.

My days were spent running around a campground with my cousins. We'd walk the mile or so to town to get penny candy from the only store. I swam in the murky water to cool down from the heat of the day, despite the fact that I had no idea how to swim and my parents were no where to be found. We were free. We had the campground at our disposal. The park was our hang out with it's old rusty equipment. I can still envision the much too tall metal slide with no slide rails ending at a huge hill. Really, what were they thinking?

My nights were spent sitting around the campfire drinking Shasta pop and eating s'mores while listening to the adults tell stories I didn't understand. Each night we would do sparklers, and my cousins and I would dance around like fairies writing our names in the dark sky. And on the Fourth, we would all pile in someones station wagon with blankets in hand, and head out to watch the local fireworks in the school's football field. The fireworks were always my favorite, but also a reminder that the week was drawing to a close.

When your child has Aspergers, the Fourth of July takes on a new meaning. Clear back in March, Jacob started worrying about the celebration. We spent many nights trying to calm his fears about fireworks that were months and months away. Tears, meltdowns, and panicking for what seemed to us as no reason. I always told him that we would worry about it when it got here.

Well, it is here. Today is the Fourth. No, our day hasn't been filled with any true celebration. No parades or small town fair for us. So far today is just like any other day with Jacob over at his friend's house playing. Jacob knows what the date is on the calendar. But his focus is more on tomorrow being his birthday. How ironic is it for a boy terrified of fireworks to be born so close to the holiday known for them.

But he's come along way, my brave boy. With the help of his psychiatrist and his anti-anxiety medicine, he has been watching fireworks on the computer with no problems. He's even attended baseball games with fireworks with little anxiety. He can talk about fireworks now without getting worked up. But tonight will be the big test. And as the day wears on, his anxiety may just grow because typically for Jacob the anticipation of the event is worse than the actual event.

While eating breakfast this morning, Jacob suddenly ran to his room and returned wearing his oversized headphones. He sat back down at the table with no mention of them covering his ears, eating his breakfast as if nothing had changed. I approached him cautiously. Were the fears of July Fourth returning? Were we in for a long day?

"Jacob," I asked pulling the headphone away from one ear, "Why are you wearing your headphones?"

"In case the baby sister decides to scream," he answered matter of fact and continued eating his french toast.

Hmmm....good answer and rightfully so as she was upset about getting milk instead of juice. I sighed with relief realizing it wasn't an early preparation for the impending fireworks. Maybe today will be fine after all. We'll see what the night brings.

Last night Jacob wanted nothing more than to go over to his cousin's house. They had told them they had "silent" fireworks, and surprisingly Jacob wanted to see them. Last year he wouldn't have been able to handle it. The conversation on the phone would have been enough to send him into a meltdown. But he wanted to see them, and he even had a plan for what he wanted to do with them. His idea was to have his cousins light the "silent" fireworks, (which really were just more like sparklers that gave off colored smoke), and he would run the bases like his favorite baseball players.

He did it and had a blast. But then he saw his two year old baby sister holding a sparkler, and he wanted more. He wanted to try it, too. My brave son was pushing himself further. And he did it! My son held a sparkler! He even wrote his name in the sky, just as I had many years ago. Something that would have sent him running to the car pleading to go home last year, and he wanted to do it and did! He was proud of himself and was beaming.

We left for home shortly after that. As we walked out the door, you could hear the booms of fireworks off in the distance. Jacob asked me what it was, and I tentatively told him the truth expecting panic to rise in his voice. Instead he surprised me and said it didn't bother him and continuted walking to the van.

As I tucked him into bed last night, Jacob wanted to hear stories from when I was a child. When I finished telling him, he said, "Mommy, I wish when you were little I could have been there and we could have played at Grandma's house."

I kissed him on the head and said, "I wish that, too."

I do wish that. I wish my son could have that same freedom I felt as a kid. Free from all the fears bottled up inside him and the anxiety that continually surfaces. Free from the worries giving him the ability to try new things without hesitation. Jacob's come along way though in just a few short months. And maybe next Fourth of July he will be truly free.