Analysis of an Autism Parenting Fail

*Not* from the team photo shoot.

Yesterday was Leo's soccer team's photo day, but Leo ended up not participating in that photo shoot. Instead, we ended up leaving -- with me in tears, and Leo frantically upset. All due to bad decisions or not being observant enough on my part, and so all of which could all could have been avoided. Let me wallow in hindsight and tell you why.

1) Leo hasn't been sleeping well lately, often getting up at 3 AM then staying awake all day until his usual bedtime. This means both he and we (Seymour and I alternate hanging out with Leo in the mornings) are sleep-deprived and so not at our best, decision-making-wise. I should have put more thought into whether Leo would be able to tolerate an activity as chaotic and demanding as a team photo shoot.

2) Leo usually has a Sunday respite session with Therapist V, his former linebacker best buddy ever (V is strong enough to pick Leo up and sling our boy over his shoulders; Leo adores roughhousing), but yesterday their session was cancelled due to matters beyond anyone's control. So that made things harder for Leo as well -- the reliable, soothing, predictable structure of his Sunday was doubly compromised, first by V's absence, then by the photo shoot.

3) Putting on his uniform after already playing on Saturday and then not going to the usual soccer field (the shoot took place at a park nearby) was very confusing, and possibly a trigger for Leo. I should have taken more time, made more materials, explained better what the photo shoot was about, how it was going to be different from a game day. But, because I was tired, I didn't take the time to prepare him sufficiently. That is on me.

4) Anything scheduled during lunch is bad. Leo lives for lunch. Since he'd been up so long, he'd already had two breakfasts by the time we left for the photo shoot -- one breakfast rather late in the morning -- and I figured I could push Leo's lunch back accordingly. Bad idea. Lunch is at noon, no matter how many breakfasts a boy has had. That lack-of-lunch was the breaking point for Leo. I understand this now.

It was only after we'd already arrived at the park and Leo started making his displeasure known (slapping the picnic tables, yelling) that I realized my son was approaching a perfect storm of Hell No. But, as he's also maturing, I tried to encourage him to power through, to see if he could take a picture anyhow.

No. He was having none of it, and became increasingly vocally and physically agitated. I brought out various things that usually calm him -- iPad, fruit leathers, music -- but he was very much All Done.
Then one of the other parents then told him he needed to calm down and behave, which I get from an It Takes a Village perspective but which is of absolutely no use with mid-meltdown autistic kids like Leo. That's the point at which I lost it.

I already knew I'd failed Leo, was already berating myself for setting him up to fail in public -- but having a semi-stranger then judge him for being out of control was more than I could take (if you don't know me IRL, even small-scale in-person confrontations makes me cry, unless I'm righteously furious). I put on my sunglasses to cover my streaming eyes, told the coach we were leaving, and we left.

We hit In-N-Out on the way home, shared French fries and a shake, and went home. Leo changed his clothes and headed straight into our pool. And then happiness reigned. His day had normalized. He was in control. Lunch had happened. Things were as they should be.

I'm writing this down because I think it's important to show lessons learned in [autism] parenting, even if they make me look bad. Because even though I know and understand so much of what it takes to help Leo get through his day, I need to stay mindful of when and how things can be harder for him. Being off schedule in any way is confusing and stressful, as is sleep deprivation. And when I'm feeling stressed or overwhelmed, that is when I need to be extra-vigilant about ensuring that Leo has proper supports. He depends on me. As capable as he has become, and as well as he has been doing in so many stressful scenarios, it is my job to smooth the path in front of him. He deserves better than being dragged into a public meltdown.

He failed because I failed. And it made us both miserable. I wish I hadn't had to re-learn what I already know, and at my son's expense, but I hope our lesson can help other folks avoid such clusterfucks.

Leo, I love you, and I'm so sorry.

----

The only bright spot in the morning: I got to see and hug my dear friend MB, whom I've not seen in person for years. xo, Lady.

89.42%

Iz wants a cell phone. Desperately. Her lobbying reached a fever pitch one year ago, and irked even her usually unflappable dad. So we struck a deal: She both stops perseverating on the topic and hits a certain grade plateau for three trimesters in a row, she gets a phone.

She stopped the daily campaigning. She also hit the marks easily for the first two grade cycles. But this Friday, when the third cycle's grades came in, she missed the bar in one class: her hardest, the one she likes the most. By .58%.

She earned a 89.42 B+.

She's not getting the phone.

Because that's the way the world works. Sometimes you fail, despite putting in your all and doing your best. And, you can't argue with math. It's a lesson kids needs to learn, in a way that really sticks. When they're young. Before they get to high school, college, the work force -- before they start believing they can negotiate anything, before they start dealing with people who are not their parents.

This lesson is sticking.

I completely empathize with Iz wanting a phone -- most of her friends have them, and they text each other all the time. She's out of some social loops, and that sucks. But I also see some of her friends treat their expensive devices casually, losing or breaking them without much concern. And Iz is like her mom -- she spends much of her life in her head, untethered to the material world, which means we both misplace important stuff due to inattention. She needs to understand that having a phone is a huge responsibility, a big cash-intensive deal, and one that requires constant locational awareness. These points can't be emphasized strongly enough.

And she will get a phone on her thirteenth birthday, which is in two months. That's been a given since she was wee, since she first started making noises about apps and texting. I think a phone is a good idea, given that she'll be in high school next year, and her activities and independence will only ramp up.

But two months is an eon, from her perspective. She's really bummed. I don't blame her, and told her so.

She handled the missed mark with good grace, though she was initially extremely upset -- she did work her ass off, after all. She also said that she'd rather get a B+ in that class -- which in her opinion is taught by the more invested teacher -- than be in the less challenging class and not learn as much and get an easy A. Her eyes are on learning and mastery, not primarily on the grades -- though she understands that they're important, too. And she did get a consolation prize for the hard work that resulted in such good marks: The first season of a trashy teen soap opera on iTunes.

It's important that our kids to learn how to fail. In that way -- and even though I would never intentionally cause my sweet, thoughtful, hardworking girl distress -- I'm almost glad she didn't get that final A. Better she learns this lesson from someone who loves her unconditionally.