I went to the gym yesterday afternoon with all three of my kids. Those of you who have babysat all three of my kids at the same time, know that it isn't nice of me to bring all three of them anywhere. Especially, to the small, over-crowded, windowless babysitting rooms at gyms, which try to contain lots and lots of noise. A place like this is called HELL for an autistic person.
Now, I KNOW I should mention my children's autism when I sign gym memberships. The problem with telling is that, when you mention any sort of special needs, people tend to immediately (and without gaining any additional information) say, "Sorry Ma'am, we simply don't have the resources to deal with special needs children." So, I often times, sort of on purpose, forget to mention it. Whoops.
My greatest fear is for us all to be held up in the house all the time, like a prisoners, with no ability to go anywhere. It's awfully easy for us to isolate, precisely because it's so painful to see what happens to my kids out in public. And we do isolate, with too much regularity. It isn't good. At some point, my kids are going to have to become part of the world, whether they like it or not (and whether the world likes it or not). So, I just don't tell.
I remember one time, when I had a membership at the local YMCA, I took a yoga class. Notice, I said ONE TIME. I was in the middle of yoga class, on my little mat, the soft music filling the room and my muscles with peace and quiet. Everyone was stretching, and peaceful, and serene, when all of a sudden, BLAAAM!! Someone cranked the loud door open, jarring everyone out of their meditative state. One of the daycare providers came through the door and said in a monotone, yet incredibly loud voice, "MRS. SPEARS. YOU'LL NEED TO COME GET YOUR CHILDREN FROM THE KIDS CLUB PLEASE." I had to noisily pack everything up in front of glaring eyes, and go get my kids and take them home. "Oh well!" I thought, "It was worth a shot."
The YMCA had a policy that if a child cried for ten minutes straight, they'd come and get you and you'd have to take the child and leave. My kids learned that fast, and for thirty days in a row (before I quit going there) they came and got me after ten minutes.
I've been through four different gyms now. My kids always have problems in the Kids Clubs at the gyms. They scream really loudly, cry, hold their hands over their ears, bump their heads on things, and generally speaking, freak people right out. And, of course, they can't be consoled because they don't like to be hugged (Cale especially). Therefore, they scream the whole time I'm gone. This upsets the day care providers as well as the other children. They usually don't harm anyone else, although Isabel did kick a gym daycare provider in the throat once. Still, with all the screaming, we usually end up getting kicked out.
They have a Kids Club at this new gym I've been experimenting with. I've been going in the mornings when it's quiet, and I just take Isabel (the boys are both at school in the mornings). She's been doing pretty well there during the calm morning time, so they haven't yet noticed that any thing's wrong with her. Yesterday, however, I didn't get a chance to go in the morning. So, I took them all there after school. It was risky. Isabel actually did pretty well. Cale, however....well, let's just put it this way. It's becoming increasingly difficult NOT to notice that something is wrong with him.
I worked out on one of the elliptical machine for about twenty minutes until one of the treadmills opened up. The pattern of movement felt really good and just as my muscles started to settle in to the calm of the repetition, I heard Cale start screaming. About then, one of the treadmills opened up. I got on it and started running. It was facing away from the kids club. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was running far away from the screaming. I recited, under my breath, "Run away, fast, far far far away." It did something terrific for my soul.
I ran two miles flat before my body started aching. When I opened my eyes and remembered where I was, Cale was still screaming. The whole gym could hear him. I shut down the machine and went to the Kids Club.
The lone day care provider was on the phone with the front desk when I walked in. She looked at me and said, "OHH! I was just going to have them page you!"
"Why? What's the problem?" I replied, playing stupid of course. Cale was on the floor, face up, in the center of the room. All of the normal children were running around him, carefully not stepping on him, and laughing and playing cheerfully with each other. He was bumping his head on the floor and screaming at the top of his lungs.
The day care girl was one of those 'perma-grin face' people. You know the ones? They look like they're smiling all the time, especially when they're upset. Those faces make me nervous.
She had tears in her eyes and a big wide smile on her face. Breathing deeply, she said, "He's just...screaming. And...he won't stop!"
I did manage to muster up an ounce of guilt. I really did. But, it didn't last long. I've felt so much guilt for so long. Any time I've had to take my kids anywhere I've felt guilty. Guilt, guilt, guilt. And, frankly, that's getting old.
I kind of wanted to say, "You know? I've been doing this for so long. You've only had to do it for fifteen minutes. Why is it so difficult to do it for fifteen minutes?" (I'd been there 40 minutes. But, he'd only been screaming for 15 of those minutes).
I didn't say anything, of course. I just kept my lips zipped, grabbed up the kids, thanked her, and left. It's not her fault. It's not any one's fault. They're my kids and my responsibility. But, I'm not going to stop trying to take them out of the house. They aren't wild animals. They are children. And they have just as much right to be in this world as anyone else.
Have you seen the movie Temple Grandin? It's an HBO on demand special. One of my favorite people pointed it out to me. It's a true story about a woman who was diagnosed with Autism in the 1950's. The doctor told Temple's mother that it was her fault Temple was autistic. They used to think that autism was caused by the mother withholding affection during a crucial moment of development. They, obviously, know now that's TOTAL bullshit.
The first time I watched the movie I just cried. It was way too close to home for me. She's so much like my kids that I just cried. The second time I watched it, I came away with a profound sense that my children are on this planet for a reason. A very special reason, that they won't have a chance at if they never learn how to deal with people.
One of the things Temple's mother did, was she made Temple be a part of the world. She didn't let her isolate from other people, even though other people made Temple incredibly uncomfortable. This forced Temple to learn some social skills and although she never got really comfortable with other people, she was still able to take her gifts out into the world (whether people liked it or not) and make a real contribution to society as a whole.
I only hope that I can be so strong as my children grow up and their autism becomes more obvious to strangers. We cannot hide in the house. They MUST be around others, even if it is painful. It's their only chance. I pray regularly for the strength to not hide them.
We didn't go to the gym today. Hopefully, the daycare lady will get healed up enough that she won't cringe then next time she sees us coming. Because, we'll be back again.
