Speak Up

Sometimes I find myself exhausted from the amount of planning and "thinking ahead" that I do with Grace.  If we are going to be out for a while did I remember to grab a water bottle or remind her to? If we are swimming do we have the EXACT right goggles?  Did we remember her riding gloves?  Does she have the right kind of dried strawberries in her lunch?  When we go to someones house for dinner should we take special food for her or just deal with the fact that she won't eat anything?  Did I run out of taco seasoning again?  Do I have time to go all the way to Whole Foods to buy that DARN pancake mix AGAIN?  And, a big one - at a restaurant I need to remember to always ask for a table and NEVER a booth.

The other day I was tired from a long day of working in my classroom and we decided to take the girls out to dinner instead of cooking.  With Grace there are only a few places we can go - Applebees, Red Robin, Izzy's and Flatbread.  Flatbread was mommy's choice.  We had to wait for a bit and then were taken to our BOOTH.  As soon as I saw where we were going all hell broke loose.  Grace froze dead in her tracks.  Emma, who knew what was coming, simply left for the bathroom.  Ellie covered her ears.  I foolishly started to try to reason with my child.  

I have no idea why she won't sit in a booth.  But, she began to wail and moan like a wild animal - shaking and sobbing.  I tried telling her that maybe she could just sit on the very edge - no good.  I tried using my teacher voice - nope.  I tried getting mad - bad idea.  When a 80 pound ten year old child throws a tantrum in a nice restaurant people notice.  

At this point the manager came over.  All I wanted was to have a nice dinner with my family.  So I looked at her and I said, "My daughter has autism.  She can't sit in a booth.  Do you have a table somewhere?"  And do you know what happened?  Those nice people went out of their way to clear a great table for us in that crowded restaurant.  The manager then personally checked in on us for the rest of our dinner and made sure Grace (and I) had everything we needed to enjoy ourselves.  

I guess my point is that raising a child with autism is hard.  It's exhausting.  Sometimes it's embarrassing.   It can't be done, and shouldn't be done alone.  There are great people out there who are kind, understanding, and willing to help if you are brave enough to share and speak up.