New Video from Camp Kodiak

Six years ago, I sent away for a Camp Kodiak DVD, thinking perhaps someday my son might go.  When it arrived, I plopped down at the table, slipped it into my computer, and proceeded to watch.  My son wondered in, watched over my shoulder and announced, "I have to go there."

He did, again and again.  It was the best thing I ever did for him; the best therapy he ever received, a gift, I have no doubt, from God.  All these years later, the camp has produced a new video.

Every word is true.

Hope

"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."

I don't know if its true, because autism took a toll on my family.  It made for isolation, misery, nightmare days, and hopeless nights.  Mine was the child melting down in stores and airports, throwing furniture, breaking doors, running out of school, flummoxing teachers, alienating family, leaving us hurt, alone, miserable, and, I feared, hopeless.

And that's my son dancing in the flashmob.  I've written before about the miracles we've experienced, but after watching this video, I want to share again that there is hope.  If things with your autistic child seem hopeless now -- if you fear he will never read/write/drive/dance/speak/date/thrive/manage himself/work -- don't give up.  Don't despair.  I feared all of those things, and the evidence and experts gave me little reason for hope.

But today he reads, writes, drives, dances, speaks, dates, thrives, manages himself, works, and participates in flash mobs. So there, experts and naysayers.  And there, parents who despair, there is hope.  Do not give up.

Superfluous. Surpassed.

His flight was scheduled to leave 15 minutes ago.
Don't know.  Didn't check.
Dropped him at the airport 3 hours ago so he could fly off to his 6th summer at Camp Kodiak.
Kodiak has made him the young man he is today; calm, confident, compassionate.
An annual ritual allows us to measure progress, and today we recalled the first journey to Kodiak.  He hyperventilated all the way to the airport, had a meltdown in the ticketing line, and another at the gate.
I flew with him.  Once he was met Kodiak staff in Toronto, I was superfluous.
Its gotten better every year.
He just phoned (responsible) to calmly (mature) let me know there was a maintenance issue with his aircraft, so they're switching planes.
I'd be sweating and having the runs.
He's surpassed me.  I'm gateful

Birthday Miracle

Its Anonymom's birthday.

I don't expect gifts, the the ASD teen delivered in an unexpected way.

Last night, after announcing that he had a belly ache and some diarrhea, he downed the last dose of pepto bismal, and went to bed. This morning, after announcing that he knew what day this was, he mentioned that he still felt sick. I phoned in an excuse to school, headed off the the convenience store for fresh pepto, and returned home to find him taping this sign to the door:

"Must go to school"

And off he went. It's the first time I can recall him playing through pain, as an athlete would say.

Hooray for him. Happy Birthday to me!