We started Curtis at Easter Seals for early autism intervention services as soon as we could, the fall after he turned two years old. He was largely unconcerned with his classmates during his three years at Easter Seals and while socializing was important to us, at the time it was not as important as the speech and occupational therapies he was receiving. During these years, we were still trying to figure out exactly what was happening with Curtis and wanted him getting exposure to people who knew how to treat this condition.
      As Curtis turned 5, we explored different programs for youth sports and considered enrolling him in something. The way he played and interacted with typically developing children made it seem unlikely he could make it through a program like this but you don't really know until you try. Special needs athletic programs were difficult to come by he was 5, so we paid $40 to enroll him in an intro to baseball program for kids 4 and 5 years old. We discussed Curtis' condition with the program director who didn't think he would stick out as many of the kids ended up off doing their own thing at some point in the class. Let's just say the typical kids behaving badly had nothing on Curtis. He was dead set against proper participation and didn't understand who the instructor was or why he should listen to him.
      We understand more clearly now how much Curtis feeds off the energy in a given room or environment. For example, in addition to the noise, a cafeteria can be a chaotic time for kids and Curtis has a hard time with even a controlled school cafeteria. The sounds (clanging, slamming, yelling, excitement) just seem amplified to his ears. This intro to baseball program started simply enough with the instructor trying to line the kids up to toss a ball to each other. But kids were laughing, and walking, and yelling to their parents, and Curtis exhibited that energy by an exponent of four. He rarely ever stood in one spot as the instructor requested at his opening. He couldn't stand in his spot long enough to wait for a return pass on a ball he had just thrown. He just wanted to run. This program felt like a mistake.
      Laura was an patient as possible and when Curtis would run, she would walk him back over to the spot he was to stand on near the other kids. This just became a game to him and he would bolt in anticipation of Laura returning him. Some kids played pass, some kids stood still, and then there was Curtis, running and screaming all over the place. The parent glares were as bad this day as any I can remember. At one point, Laura retreated to the bathroom to cry briefly while I walked Curtis outside to an empty playground. A place he felt much more comfortable. There is certainly a frustration about not being able to control this type of situation. We left after maybe 15 minutes but returned over the course of the program to get Curtis familiar with coming to this school, at this time, for this reason, to increase his familiarity. We left only when we felt he was becoming too much of a distraction to the other kids who always had little idea what to make of Curtis.
      The baseball course was not a success but we tried again when he was almost 6, signing him up to play soccer with 4 and 5 year olds. He makes so much progress all the time that it's worth it to us to push him and see what he can handle. Plus, he had demonstrated a real interest in soccer and maybe this would be a better fit. In reality, it didn't go a whole lot better than the baseball.
      He had a soccer doll at home that he called "Soccer Boy" that we got out of one of those claw machines months before. On the first day of soccer, the patient instructor tried to start with some basic drills as any instructor would. Again, most kids did not have a hard time lining up and kicking the ball back and forth but Curtis did. He would run, yell, sing, doing anything to prove he didn't have to do what the instructor requested. Then he started calling the instructor "Soccer Boy", as in "Leave me alone, Soccer Boy!", etc. I could tell by the look on the guy's face that he was unimpressed with the moniker, though Curtis didn't mean it as demeaning as it sounded. Still, the instructor had a "you have to be kidding me" look on his face and soccer signs-ups were team sports disaster number two.
      At 7 and a half years old and after much progress, we still don't have a team sports success story, but we're working on it. We feel at the mercy of the types of programs in the area and an honest assessment of what Curtis can handle. We were going to sign him up for a special needs athletic program last year that was cancelled. There is also a "challenger" baseball program though his baseball interest is still minimal. A special needs soccer or basketball program is probably an ideal setting for Curtis, especially if we can get another kid he knows to do the program with him. Though I'm willing to bet he's better at basketball than most kids his age, he still has a hard time with passing and following a structure of the game and I could still see him throwing in the towel 5 minutes into the first session, swearing he'll never go back. However, Curtis maintains the curiosity and willingness to do new things and that's what we consider most important. Eventually, we find when we work tirelessly with him on things, he usually does come around. So maybe one of these days we will have a successful story along the team sports line to share. Until that time, he'll get his usual one on one instruction from those who care about him the most, and we don't have a problem with that. He will be ready when he is ready.

Greg, Dad
     

      We returned from our first real family vacation this past weekend after 6 days away from home. We had a cabin in Vermont at a great family campground with a start to the trip that was delayed by an emergency surgical procedure for Laura. A late start meant a disruption to the vacation plans Curtis had already agreed too, slightly raising his anxiety level about the trip already containing mostly unknowns. The vacation was a huge success and Curtis now has an answer to the question he posed to his mom a few months ago, "Mom, what's a vacation?".
      In most ways, Curtis' autism did not manifest itself to the point where we made a point about discussing it with other people. We left interpretation of his obvious uniqueness open to many parents and discussed it rather thoroughly with others.  As far as friends, he mostly stuck with younger children and girls close to his age. Some of the boys his age kept asking how old he was and were largely stuck on the developmental differences of Curtis and the other 7 year old boys. This is often the case with boys his age however. Indeed, none of the 7 and a half year old boys carried a Smurfette doll around and gave it a voice narrating van rides to the lake. Curtis couldn't care less that there were boys who didn't think it was cool.
      Our first night at the camp we realized that before dinner, families staying at the camp meet on the dining hall steps where they are told of entertainment lined up for the evening and other events pertaining to the camp. Curtis wanted no part of this ritual and went out to the rock pictured above and ignored the meeting. Not completely ignoring it of course. He found the need to let out loud, nervous laughter to the group while the director spoke. This drew the glare of several "high brow" parents but we figured it was worth Curtis working through this process and not forcing him to sit with the group and make a scene. He never really integrated into this meeting over the course of the week but he did manage to keep quiet at a nearby table during the nightly address.
       Activiti es at the camp went according to a sign-up sheet and the second morning at the camp, I signed up me and Curtis to play wiffle ball. It was difficult to get him there but when it turned out the time for wiffle ball was later in the day and he was instead expected to change directions and get basic tennis instruction, it did prompt an immediate meltdown. He did not take this sudden change in schedule in stride and made it impossible for the instruction to continue for the other kids. I ended up removing him from the scene in favor of some wind down time with just his family. These are really the only two instances that jump out at me as particularly difficult to handle while on vacation, though Laura may have other stories from activities they did together.
       The weather cooperated, the lake was open all afternoon and it was in the water where Curtis was his happiest. He conducted several concerts out on the docks with parents, kids, and staffers looking on and one staffer told us that getting to know Curt was the highlight of his week. In addition to his uninhibited dance and song routines, Curtis had many people laughing with his deadpan literal interpretations of a magic show and other activities and events that confused him. By weeks conclusion, he became a very popular camper, constantly being queried for conversation by kids and adults and rattling off the names of his new friends every night before bed.

Greg, Dad

I don't believe Curtis did anything particularly embarrassing on this Fryeburg Fair trip where he lost a tooth but I love the picture. I was on a parent panel at The Southern Maine Autism Conference earlier this year and one of the questions posed to the parents was what to do in the publicly embarrassing situations. Unfortunately there is no one size fits all answer for this one. While eyebrow raising outbursts are much more infrequent now we aren't too far removed from the days uncontrollable sobs in the grocery store or a refusal to leave the Thomas the Train table display at Toys R' Us without being carried out of the store.

I was always more prone to removing him from a situation and Laura was more intent on having him learn right from wrong. I got used to front loading my exits from stores. For example, finding the shortest line or pacing the area until something opened up. When Curtis was 3, 4, 5 years old it was barely realistic to expect him to wait in a line when his body was always telling him to move. While we both never intend to give in to him on a situation of expected behavior we are also careful not to disrupt the lives of those around us. That said, there are people who are going to glare no matter what. Your kid is acting up you must be a lousy parent, glare, feeling of superiority. I say let them have it. Curtis never cared what they thought and after a while neither did I. And "they" are the minority. Most people with common sense are going to realize there may be something a little extra going on here and express sympathy if anything.  My feeling is there is a time to stick it out and there is a time to carry them out of the store. I'm just glad I've always been a lot bigger than him.

Greg, Dad