A good walk (almost) spoiled

Last night, Ethan’s grandpa (a.k.a. my dad) told Ethan over the phone that he would take him to play golf today…if it was not raining. Naturally, Ethan’s selective hearing somehow did not process that last part. So when he woke up to sprinkles, it did not matter. Grandpa had said he’d take him. Period.

“It’s ok. It won’t be raining this afternoon,” assured my little optimist.

When I spoke to my dad this morning, he informed that even if it wasn’t raining, they might not be able to play because Ethan wanted to ride in a cart and the golf course often would not allow carts after a rain. “Ugh.” I cringed, thinking, “Please, please, pleeeeeeeeez don’t do this to me.”

So, of course, I hung up the phone then tried to relay my dad’s message to Ethan, adding that if they couldn’t go today, they would go tomorrow. To a logical adult, this made sense. To an impatient 6-year-old with autism, I might as well have been relaying the message to him in Martian.

They were supposed to go play golf today. Grandpa said so last night. End of story.

Then came the mini meltdown, complete with a few little hits (his hits and kicks are usually minor these days compared to when he was a wee lad) and a lot of angry climbing on my lap and sulking and hitting the desk. So I pulled this one out: “Ethan, if you can’t behave, I’ll tell grandpa not to come at all.”
Like that really worked.

During the mini-meltdown, he kicked a portable CD player off the table and it crashed to the floor. Ethan found that ridiculously funny and started giggling, snapping him back to reality.

Suddenly – and it really was suddenly – a light broke forth and the sun peeked through the clouds. The rain had ended. A new day -- albeit it a hot and humid day --- had dawned.

Part of me was relieved; part of me feared that if dad backed out now, I’d never survive the day with no rain to blame.

At noon, I picked up the phone to the most wonderful question: “What time should I pick Ethan up this afternoon?”

Happy sigh.

I'm learning that with children, you don't tell them you'll do something unless you are able to carry through. I've had to back out of plans with Abby before, and although she takes it hard, she usually bounces back fairly quickly. For Ethan, however, it's a different story. Children with autism do not easily handle change in routine or changes in plans.

I will say, however, that my little man is growing up. He had a major disappointment yesterday when he learned that the Dollar Tree no longer carries Junior Caramels, his favorite candy (which I could only find at Dollar Tree). But after a few tears, he said he wanted to try one more Dollar Tree. If they didn't carry the candy, he'd "be ok" and choose something else. "I like a lot of kinds of candies." So he settled for peanut butter cups instead.

Fortunately, today worked out all around. He and grandpa had a wonderful time sharing their favorite pastime together to boot.

(Thanks dad!)