Alright this happened yesterday and I thought I'd share because I'm proud of myself for handling it well. As well as proud of my son for working with me to a good end.
Situation:
We are meeting some friends, including two boys he loves, to go to an huge indoor playgym and burn off some Christmas cabin fever. We need to take the subway and a bus to get there. It is -23C outside (we're in Canada) and even colder with the windchill.
He's been looking forward to friends and the playplace for weeks.
The walk, after we get off the bus, was freezing beyond belief. I'm watching three kids across a road and through a busy parking lot. I'm afraid the baby will freeze. We're rushing to get indoors.
My son is hot in his coat and cold on his hands. He starts freaking out and doesn't want to walk. He wants his coat off.
We get there and all the other kids are fine. My oldest son however, is in tears unable to undress himself and saying he's going to throw up.
My reaction before my understanding of Asperger's:
"Why are you miserable? We're finally here, it's fun, you have friends waiting to play with you. You're not the only one that's cold. Go have fun! I went through all this trouble and now you're going to just sit and cry? "(anger).
My thoughts now;
It's too much sensory input. He's feeling extreme cold, plus extreme heat. He hate's both. He's feeling the anxiety from rushing, plus the extreme excitement of having a friend there and going to his favourite place. Now he's expected to do motor skills he finds difficult, with a body that's overloaded. He's afraid his friends will see him crying and abandon him. He wants it to work out so badly but it's too much. On top of it all, we just entered a noisy, fluorescent lighted place that's packed with people.
My actions;
I asked the older boy (11) to stay with the baby (who was sleeping in the stroller) and sent the younger friend (5) to go play. I paid, and undressed my son, speaking softly and telling him I was going to help him and make it alright. I carried him to the womens washroom and picked the farthest stall that was dimly lit. Undid his pants and sat him on the toilet because he said his stomach was hurting. Then I crouched down in front of him and hugged him tight, I told him to close his eyes. We rocked like that for 10 minutes. He was shaking like a leaf. I put his freezing hands under my armpits as we rocked to warm them, and I lifted his shirt to air his sweaty back. After a while, I checked him verbally to ask how he felt. Still crying. I held him longer and we counted together "one alligator, two alligatior.." all the way up to 30. I asked if he was ready to go out of the stall. His hands felt sticky (bad sensory) so I washed and dried them for him. I didn't ask him to do any self-care. Then I told him we would go out and he could sit with me and the baby, and if he still felt bad we could come back into the washroom again and do the same thing. I took his hand...
By the time I went back for the baby (thank God for that 11 yr old boy!) he was looking around like he just realized we were at the playplace. By the time I was headed for the adult tables he was ready to go and play.
The next four hours he had a great time playing.
Yay Evan!
He told me, as we left the washroom "that was the worst thing that could happen to a boy. I think I had a heart attack."
awwwww
Do you have a successful meltdown experience you could share?
_________________
Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be.
~Thomas à Kempis
"Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift"
~Shakespeare
03 Jan 2010, 3:06 pm
