And Then There Was This

Fair warning:  This post is a hodgepodge of stuff, related only by the fact that it all features my favorite penguin.  Who seems to think he's Scuttle the seagull from "The Little Mermaid" lately, but that's neither here nor there.  It's encouraging him to ask for dinglehoppers to eat his food with, and that's all I care about.  If you're lucky enough for it to have been a decade or two since you've seen "The Little Mermaid", dinglehopper is what Scuttle names a fork.

First, there was a doctor's visit, the usual back to school well visit.  My kids take getting shots and having blood taken about as well as I do, which is why we have a prescription for numbing cream for them.  Cady is so bad that her blood usually needs to be taken in a lab, lying down.   I actually can't go with them to any appointment where blood has to be taken, because I will be lying down next to her, the hard way.  

Geri, our babysitter, broke out the numbing cream, and started to slather it on Cady.  Brandon looked at her and said, "It's OK.  I can handle it without that stuff."  I looked at her...she looked at me...lots of eyebrows got raised...but it was his choice, and we let him do it.  And he did, like a pro.  Both shots were given and blood taken, and there wasn't a peep or a tear out of him.  Two years ago my husband used to have to hold him down for a blood draw to be done.  Normally I make fun of Geri's post doctor visit trip to the store for a Beanie Boo for the kids, but this time that boy earned it (as did Cady, who apparently was still able to feel the shots this time even with the cream.)

Then there were balloons.  At a birthday party.  Where you would expect to be balloons.  Brandon as a very little boy used to love balloons, batting them all over the house.  Geri had a "birthday balloon" tradition, and heaven help her if she forgot the birthday balloon.  It was a national crisis...or at least a local one requiring an immediate trip to the nearest balloon selling store.  Until the day we went to a birthday party and he was suddenly and inexplicable terrified of balloons.  In particular, he is afraid that they will pop, and of course I can't guarantee that won't happen.  Which makes balloons at a birthday party something of a sticky situation.  In fact, just slightly over a month ago we spent a very long hour in Central Park waiting for Danny and some friends to finish a race, stuck in a spot that had not one but two people making balloon animals.  It was a very, very loooooong hour.  

So when we arrived, and I saw the inevitable balloon bouquets, I mentally winced.  Inhaled.  Exhaled.  Noticed that one set of tables didn't have any balloons and mentally marked it as the best place for him to eat his pizza and cake.  And prepared to do my very best balloon reassurance for the next two hours.  

Except that Brandon didn't say anything about the balloons.  Not when he walked in.  Not when he sat near one of the bouquets to eat.  Not until he was given his party favor all the way at the end of the party and very calmly asked for his balloon to be removed from it.  It was a balloon non-event.

Later that night, there was this exchange:
Me (to Brandon): "You know what? I love you."
Brandon: "I already know that."
Me: "Well, I want to make sure you always know that."
Brandon: "Yes, I know."

Could you just?

And then there was food.  Like a lot of people with autism (and a lot of kids in general), Brandon has a really restricted diet.  He's expressed boredom with the same handful of foods, but at the same time is just too anxious to try anything new.  We keep offering, in the hopes that one day he will finally be brave enough to take a bite.  

For summer session, his class theme has been healthy living.  So as a final field trip, they went to the local green market yesterday.  I sent him with a couple of dollars to buy a snack.  Apparently, they were offered peaches to try.  Then Brandon selected a peach for his snack, and, from what I hear, ate it straight down to the pit.  All of which sounds very ordinary...except that Brandon doesn't eat peaches.  He came home all excited about his new snack - "Yeah, they're yummy!" - and had one with his breakfast this morning.  Making me wonder if they sent me home the right kid.  We took advantage and told him about nectarines and how they're similar to peaches, but without the fuzz.  He tried a piece from his teacher this morning and pronounced that yummy too.  I'm still wondering if it's my kid.  It's the first new foods he's tried in, literally, years.

So it's been a weekend of firsts and letting go of anxieties.  I'm curious to see where all of this goes and what other changes it might herald.  It couldn't be happening at a better time; Brandon will be trying mainstream day camp next week for the first time.  It's his first mainstreaming experience ever.   I've got my fingers crossed.  Seems like right now the little miracles are everywhere.