Posts Tagged father of autistic child

Talking Geese

The ducks and geese were chattering, honking and generally making a ruckus out on the water when we got to Clay’s favorite nature center Sunday afternoon.

“We’re so surprised about the geese,” Clay typed, sitting on a bench along the trail.

“What surprised you about them?” my wife asked in response. Read the rest of this entry »

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Not Forgotten

 

Image of Maverick

Maverick 1999 - 2010

When Clay was about six or seven, and still using speech to communicate, he came in the kitchen door one afternoon and announced that our dog, Maverick, had treed “an old cat.”

My wife dutifully headed into the backyard to check on the situation and found Maverick, a yellow labrador retriever we had adopted at the age of 1 1/2, barking at the base of a maple tree. When she looked up to see whose “old cat” he had forced up the tree, she saw, instead, a raccoon the size of a small bear, hissing and spitting and making a strange moaning sound.

She wisely got Maverick and Clay back in the house until the angry raccoon came out of the tree and waddled its way off our lawn. Read the rest of this entry »

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Yo, Adrian, Part 2

Sitting at our kitchen table a day after Clay surprised us by riding a horse during our trip to Water Stream Farm – bareback no less, the glow remained.

“Still feeling happy,” he typed on the keyboard he uses to communicate, when asked about his ride on Rocky.

“Would you like to write a story about it?” my wife asked.

“Sure.”

So, here is Clay’s first literary effort, written a sentence at a time, with breaks in between to wander through the house and into the backyard. (Hey, Hemingway wrote standing up, too.) Full disclosure: he did get a little assist with the “Once upon a time” part to get things rolling. Read the rest of this entry »

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Yo, Adrian

Stables

We had been at the sprawling horse farm for about 45 minutes, when the owners popped the question.

Do you think Clay would like to ride one of the horses?

Clay had loved almost everything about his trip on this sunny fall day so far, but we weren’t sure how he would answer that. Read the rest of this entry »

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Nature Boy

Clay loves the nature center near our house, so when we discovered one a couple towns over a few weeks back we figured it was worth a visit.

The first stop on the trail was a blind for bird watching.

picture of scenic bird blind

My wife and I sat on chairs looking out through a wall-length picture window while Clay explored the room. Illustrations of birds ran above the glass. After a bit, the little guy joined us.

“What are your favorite birds?” my wife typed on the keyboard Clay uses to communicate. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Clay Storm

satellite image of hurricaneGot caught in a perfect Clay storm yesterday afternoon. Here is what happened:

I take a shower around 4 p.m. (A busy day)

Head to the kitchen to get started on dinner. While I chop zucchini and peppers to roast on the barbecue, Clay alternates between scarfing the vegetables out of the bowl and diddling around with the sealed bottle of marinade.

Vegetables chopped, I pull off the tight seal on the top of the marinade, not realizing that Clay has managed to unscrew the top almost completely. The key word there is “almost.”

I shake the marinade vigorously to mix the oil with the other ingredients. Read the rest of this entry »

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Diving Butterfly

image of cover The night before we met with Clay’s “team” at school last week, my wife told me a story. A story I hadn’t heard before. It explained how—after years of silence from the little guy—we wound up at our kitchen table preparing for a meeting to integrate a computer keyboard into his high school classroom.

A year ago, we didn’t know if Clay would be able to type. We weren’t completely sure if he could read. We certainly didn’t know he could do addition, subtraction and multiplication in his head. He hadn’t used speech to communicate in five years. I had my darker moments, but I don’t think my wife ever stopped believing that underneath Clay’s often distracted and hyperactive exterior lived a boy who was listening, learning and longing to do more with his life than he had thus far. She had spent a weekend at Syracuse University learning about typing with support. She read herself to sleep at night with books on the key techniques and stories of people with autism who had broken through the silence.

We had talked about the possibility of Clay learning to type, but hadn’t taken concrete action to get it started. Read the rest of this entry »

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3,877 Hot Dogs

Image of hot dogs on grillThis past Wednesday night, Clay was upstairs with the aide that works with him at home when I heard the robotic sound of the keyboard he uses to communicate.

“I am really hungry.”

Not surprisingly, moments later he and the aide tromped down the stairs to the kitchen, where I was chopping vegetables for dinner.

“What would you like to eat?” I asked. In her daily report, his teacher wrote that Clay was “very hungry” at school that day. He had been eating all afternoon, and already had inhaled a plateful of french fries. But it was 6 p.m., and I know he was looking for more.

“Hot dogs,” he typed.

“OK. How many do you want?” Read the rest of this entry »

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So Sorry

Image of old time boxersClay is usually a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, so it got our attention when he was visibly upset one day last week with the aide that works with him at home.

The county provides us with a TSS (therapeutic staff support), who works with Clay four or five days each week. One TSS left about a month ago, and our new guy is still getting his feet wet. He is doing a great job, but transitions are tough. He and Clay are still figuring each other out, circling one another like heavyweight boxers in the first round of a championship bout.

The biggest issue came when the TSS showed up 30-minutes earlier than usual. Not a big deal, except I forgot to warn Clay, so he was already caught off guard on a day when he wasn’t feeling 100 percent. Bad start. Read the rest of this entry »

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Not-So-Happy Camper

In retrospect, we shouldn’t have been surprised when the phone rang an hour after Clay got to camp Monday morning.

Yes, he woke up at 4:30 that morning with no intention of going back to sleep, but—sadly—that isn’t all that unusual. Yes, he did seem a tad warm. And, yes, he had been dragging a little over the weekend, typing “stay here” to all our offers to go somewhere, but we didn’t think much of that, either. Camp takes a lot out of him, and he needs the weekend to recover. It was his last week of camp. I had a busy day of work ahead, and my wife had a late meeting that would keep her out until past nine that night. So, we packed him off on the bus as usual.

Then came the “dreaded call.” Read the rest of this entry »

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