Make new friends, but keep the old...

"Mommy, Guess what? J is coming over after school today!"

That's how I was greeted on Tuesday when I picked up my son. I knew nothing of J, nor did I know anything about him coming over after school. Nor was I really in the mood as I was incredibly tired and a little cranky. I knew to tread lightly as we have had this conversation many times over the past few years. And more often than not the friend knows nothing about the "playdate" Jacob has arranged.

"Jacob, I'll have to talk to J's mom to see if that is ok. Maybe he could come over tomorrow," I reply.

"But mommmmmmm....J said it was ok!"

"I don't even know who J is, Jacob."

"Yes, you do mommy. He's my best friend."

I start maneuvering Jacob toward the car and as we get closer, he yells out, "There he is! J are you coming to my house?"

Ahh....I do know J. He is our new neighbor boy. I just hadn't put it all together. I look toward this new boy curious as to his response. Is he turned off by my overly excited son? J keeps walking and just as I think he is blowing Jacob off, he nods his head yes.

But there are errands to be ran. A quick trip to the grocery store, and a drive through the bank. Jacob wants nothing to do with it. Somehow I convince him that J will be waiting for us when we return home. He's our neighbor. He has to turn up sometime, right?

No sooner do I pull in the drive way, and Jacob is out the door yelling, "J...J...where are you?" He turns to me and says, "Mom, he's not here." He opens the front door to our house and proceeds again to yell out J's name as if the boy would be waiting alone in our new home.

I wrangle up the baby girl and my groceries and head inside, but before I can say a word, Jacob is out the door sprinting over to J's house. With my arms full, I have two choices. I can drop everything and insist he come back, or let him go. I am too tired for the fight, and I figure he will return if J is not wanting to play.

It's a nerve racking time right now for me. I worry so much about Jacob at his new school and making friends. There are so many boys on our block all about the same age. They are a tight group, you can tell. And much more worldly than my naive son who still is content with watching the same television shows as his two year old baby sister. Will these new boys accept my son? Will they be patient and forgiving? Only time will tell.

It doesn't take long for the front door to open. It is Jacob with J close behind, as well as the other neighbor boy. They run in the front door in such a flurry of activity, heading down to the basement without hesitation. They are loud. Very loud! As I listen, I realize it is Jacob who is being the loudest. He's anxious, excited, and nervous, wanting these boys to like him. My heart aches for him as I can feel his need for acceptance into this group. At the same time I am elated that my son is so wanting of these friendships.

Many times when you read about people with Aspergers, you read how they are loners, preferring to be by themselves. I can't speak for all, but with Jacob nothing could be further from the truth. He wants nothing more than to form those friendships. To have that closeness that only a true friend can bring. He just has no idea how to do it. Typically he comes on too strong too fast, becoming obsessed with the person.

As I listen to the boys playing basketball in the basement, I can tell that is the case. I anticipate his new found friends wanting to leave, possibly annoyed by Jacob. Yet they continue to play with no fighting or arguing.

A little later, the three boys ascend the stairs. The one asks Jacob where his bedroom is, and they go bounding up the stairs. That's when I hear Jacob say, "This really isn't my bedroom. My room is in the basement."

"Oh yes, Jacob. You are waaaaay too cool to have a bedroom UPSTAIRS," I think to myself as I stifle a laugh.

The night continues with Jacob and his new buddies coming and going over and over, sometimes adding new friends along the way. It is a crazy night and Jacob is bouncing off the walls with excitement as he runs from house to house. It takes a while to calm him down at the end of the night.

The next day, as I am waiting to pick up Jacob from school, I know that I will be faced with the same crazy almost manic excitement from Jacob. Sure enough, the first thing he says to me when he exits the building is, "Can J come over and play?" "We'll see," I tell him, as I try to listen to his teacher fill me in on his day, a day that sounds like Jacob has been running on full speed.

Again as we pull in our driveway, Jacob bounds out the door adamant he is going over to a friend's house. Some how I convince him to come in and have a snack first and see his dad and sister. But it is short lived, and he is out the door.

It doesn't take long before he returns. Apparently he was running from room to room in their house, and the neighbor boys asked him to leave. Realizing he left his shoes, Jacob sprints back over and quickly returns. He proceeds to tell us that the neighbor boy said it was "ok" that he had been running all over the house after Jacob apologized.

That's a tough one for us. We've tried explaining to Jacob that when someone says ok after he apologizes, they are not saying it is ok for him to continue the behavior. But that's all it took and Jacob was insisting this meant he could go back over and play. I decided to walk over with him and hear first hand what had taken place.

Before Jacob could just run into the house, I insisted he knock. Together we stood outside the door, my son waiting as patiently as he could hopeful for an invite inside. He knocked again, and this time I heard running inside. Jacob heard it, too. "They're coming!" he said. But the door never opened. Jacob knocked again, and again I heard the sound of footsteps scrambling, but no door opening.

"Jacob, let's head home," I said gently.

"Mom, they are coming. They want to play with me," he replied.

My heart ached for my son. I knew what was happening behind the door. But no gentle prodding could make Jacob budge. Instead he now had changed courses, believing that the boys must instead be at another house.

"Jacob, just come home."

After getting Jacob inside, he started screaming and running around the house having a huge fit, something we hadn't seen in months. He was mad at my husband and me, not wanting to believe that his new best friends didn't want him to join them. I tried explaining how these boys have been friends for a while, and probably just wanted to spend time alone together like they used to. But no matter what my husband or I said, Jacob just became more and more enraged. He tried fleeing out the front door. He slammed doors. He threw his shoes. He yelled, and yelled, and yelled.

"Jacob, are you ok?" my sweet baby girl asked in her squeaky little voice. "NO!" he yelled back. Scared from seeing her older brother this upset, the baby girl begins to cry as well. I hate that she witnesses these things no matter how much we try to shield her. I was on the verge of tears myself, and I could tell by my husband's expression, he too was feeling beat down.

My husband got Jacob calmed down, redirecting him to a project of finding pictures online of all his favorite baseball players. Jacob's fits are exhausting for everyone.

As I made dinner, listening to the familiar "eeeee" sound of Jacob concentrating on the computer, I found myself longing for the comfort and quiet of our old neighborhood. Longing for Jacob's old neighborhood friends who knew all his quirks. Our adult friends who have seen Jacob through all his good and bad. The comfort of knowing it doesn't matter how my son acts, because they all know where we have been and how far we have come.

With that being said, I know what must happen. We have to fill in the new neighbors about our son. I don't blame the boys one bit for not wanting to come to the door. Jacob is not exactly an easy playmate. But hopefully by cluing in the parents, it will help guide any conversations they have with their kids about our son.

I know that no matter what, Jacob will be fine. He's a sweet and loving boy. And even if these "new best friends" are not here for the long haul, Jacob will find his own place to settle in.

And as I go to bed, that old familiar Girl Scout song enters my head.

"Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."

 

A True Field of Dreams

When you have a child with Aspergers, you really never know what to expect. You learn to never assume typical activities will go smoothly, and to always expect the unexpected. So you over prepare for everything, and hope for the best, but plan for the worst.

In my mind I've been planning for the worst for the past few weeks. We've had a lot of changes in our home with us moving and a new school. So far it's been smooth sailing, but you never know when a hurricane can hit out of no where and completely sink your boat, so you have to be ready.

See Jacob just started Fall baseball. Nothing new, as he has played baseball on a team for two years now. He loves baseball, and knows the game inside and out. So what's the big deal?

Well, it's kid pitch baseball. Up until this time he has played either machine pitch, or coach pitch. But the game would be changing and kids would be pitching now, and Jacob would be one of them.

Jacob's a decent pitcher. For only being in second grade, he does just fine. He's watched enough games over the years to know how it's done. I have pictures of him standing on the mound at the age of two with his one hand behind his back as if he is ready to fire the ball to home plate. He's been preparing for this moment for years. So I really shouldn't have been that worried. But I've learned as with anything, to not have my guard down, because that's when it can all go downhill quickly.

All week long, I couldn't help but remember those first few games of baseball for Jacob just a few years ago. How when the focus was on him, he would just lose it and have a meltdown. I remembered the coaxing to get him on the field at his first tee ball game, and how he got mad and started crying when it was his turn at bat. I remembered the big hits he would get when he started coach pitch and how upset he would be at the fans cheering. So upset he would just keep running past first base right towards the parking lot. I remembered all the times I had to carry him to our car as he cried because the fans were looking at him. I remembered all the games he wanted to sit on the bench because it was just easier.

And of course I couldn't help but wonder, "Would this be one of those moments?".

Would it just be too much? Would he be too nervous? Obviously the focus would be on him. The home fans, the visiting fans, his teammates, the batter, the umpires, his opponents. Everyone would be looking at him. So naturally I was apprehensive.

After the first inning ended, Jacob came up to me and said, "Mommy, I'm going to the bullpen," with the biggest grin on his face. As he warmed up in the grass beside the field, I could feel my nerves getting the better of me.

The inning ended quickly, and it was time for Jacob to hit the mound. This was it. I held my breath, said another silent prayer, and went to the dugout edge prepared to take quick action if needed and to cheer on my son.

As he took a few warm up throws, I was amazed at how grown up he appeared. How graceful and fluid he looked. The visiting team would have no idea looking at my son that he had Aspergers. As the visiting team's parents chatted in the stands, they had no idea the struggles and challenges it took to get to this place. The first time pitching is a great milestone for any child. For Jacob, it is so much more.

Honestly, if someone would have told me two years ago as I carried my son to the car with tears streaming down both our faces after a meltdown at his baseball game that we would be experiencing this moment, I'm not sure I would have believed them. I know that seems cliche, but it is true.

And so as the first batter comes up to the plate, I waited wondering what was going to happen. A strike! Yes...I needed that. Jacob needed that, too. He continued pitching striking out the first batter. Slowly I felt myself begin to relax a little. He was doing it. Alone on the mound with all eyes on him, and he was doing it.

He pitched the entire inning, striking out two batters.

At the end of the inning as the team hustled in to form a huddle, Jacob casually threw the ball up to the dugout roof. Only those that know Jacob knew what he was doing. He was tossing a ball to one of his fans. Just like the pitchers do in the major leagues.

"I Got this, Dad"

I've been absent, I know. I've missed blogging. It's not that I haven't composed blog post after blog post in my head. There has been plenty to write about over the past few months, and it seems I have good intentions. But life has been busy in our household.

It started back in May when we decided to sell our house. Or should I say, I decided it was time to move. I think it came out of left field for my husband. Sure we had talked about it over the years, but for some reason, it just seemed like the right time.

So my wonderful husband spent countless hours getting our house ready to put on the market. How surprised were we when it sold in two weeks time. We were elated, but then the real pressure was on. We had two weeks to find a suitable house to avoid having to move into some kind of temporary housing. It was crunch time.

With Jacob's Aspergers, there was no way I could do that to him. We had to know where we were going. Change is very hard for him. There was no way I could have him leave the security of the only house he had ever known, and move him into an apartment. He would not understand that.

And so the hunt was on. I figured it would be easy. I'm not that picky when it comes to houses. And our house was so small, the main thing was just finding some room to breath. But it proved more challenging than I had imagined.

I couldn't tell you how many houses got nixed with Jacob in mind.

We would drive up to a house and before even stepping out of the car my husband would announce, "Nope! Jacob wouldn't like the driveway. Next!"

He was right. Steep driveways had to be out. We had already battled the balls rolling down the hill fear. We didn't want to go back to that.

Or we would go from room to room loving everything, until my husband would ask, "But where is Jacob going to play baseball?" knowing all too well that Jacob rarely is found around the house without his nerf bat and ball in hand. We stock up for the winter months as he goes through about six bats a year.

Again next house.

Over and over the theme was, "Could this house work for Jacob?" It seemed like it always came back to that question.

He for sure had opinions. He wanted a big yard for playing baseball, a big bedroom, and no more than two steps up to the house. Really? Where did that come from? He claimed our house had too many steps to get in and it made his legs tired. Great, one more thing to add to the list.

Too small of yards, too busy of streets, too old of neighborhoods, too small of bedrooms. It was supposed to be fun looking for a house. We had thought it would be easy. It was losing it's appeal, this whole moving thing. And I was beginning to think we had made the wrong decision.

Where would my son start school in the fall? How could I do this to him? Start him at one school and then move after a few weeks or months once we knew where we would be living. I was feeling awful and full of regret.

Most people reading that wouldn't understand why it would be a big deal. Move into an apartment for a few months. Who cares? But when your child has a hard time with change, you want nothing more than to make it easier for them, not harder.

And so even though my husband and I were both at our rope's end, tired of looking at houses, we kept pushing forward, knowing that it was what we needed to do for our son. Praying for the right house to turn up.

And sure enough it did.

After a late night at Jacob's baseball game, we were telling some of the other parents about our house hunting. Sure enough on the way home, one of them called saying a house in their neighborhood had just went on the market. We called our realtor and the next morning we were the first to see the house. We loved it!

The rooms were big. It was on a cul-de-sac. The yard was decent size. There was plenty of baseball playing room throughout. There were only two steps to get up to the front door. And best of all, Jacob already knew four kids that would be at his new school.

So that's why I have been absent. Packing, packing, packing. Then unpacking, unpacking, unpacking. And now organizing like crazy!

Yet though it all there has been no major hiccups. Jacob started his new school one day, and the following day we moved into our new house. Talk about major change. But somehow, Jacob handled it all like a trooper. Out of all of us, he has probably handled the new changes the best.

On the second day of school, my husband dropped Jacob off. I was worried as in the past he has had a para meet him outside and walk him in and he would go back to the resource room to read or draw before the bell rang. I knew there would be no para there to greet him as we had barely familiarized the new school about Jacob yet. And knowing how drop offs the last two years had gone at the beginning of the year, I was worried Jacob would have a meltdown not wanting his dad to leave. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that as my husband approached the school curb for drop off, Jacob turned to him and said, "I got this, dad."

Yes, Jacob, you do. You've got this. And your mama couldn't be prouder.