Of course, for those of you that know me well enough, you might figure I don't actually know that feeling since I was such a goody-goody back in my school days. My schooling career being in stark contrast to my dear husband's where after nearly 13 years of marriage I can still hear a new story that starts out with, "This one time, when I went to jail..." or the more popular, "When my buddies and I were outrunning the police...", or "This one time, at band camp..." So when I heard her voice on the line, I admit to being a little nervous as to what she wanted to say to me at 7:50 in the morning.
Rowen's teacher is as sweet as they come and we are blessed to have her in his camp. She called because she was worried about him as he had been talking about a stomach ache the day before and she suspected (as did I) that it may have been rooted in anxiety rather than a stomach bug. She didn't want him to think she wasn't taking him seriously though, so she called to see how I thought he was. She also said she had wanted to prepare him for her being gone for a few days by telling him ahead of time, but wondered if that was the right thing to do or if it made him more anxious. What an incredible teacher.
I opened my mouth to say something like "It's best to let him know, not know, er...?" Shoot, I didn't even know. I find it funny that one of the hallmarks of autism is predictability, but there are so many times that Rowen just leaves me scratching my head. On the other hand, he can be so highly predictable. I haven't heard Rowen talk much about trains for a long time, but with Christmas rolling around he has suddenly taken an interest. Why you ask? Because that's what he wanted last year. It doesn't matter that it has no claim on his life today, it's just what he remembers from yesterday. It's his point of reference for Christmas.
So before I get too hard on myself, not knowing how to answer a question about my own child, I am reminded of how unpredictably predictable he is. It's a roller coaster ride that takes us to great places but also to the most frustrating. It's hard for me to understand even though I've been a student of Rowen for 7 years now.
Rowen's anxiety has also been hit or miss. I am grateful for the misses, but the hits still come pretty hard. A few times I have given him a day off school because he gets in his fits of anxiety so hard and fast that a point of no return becomes evident and I need to just give him a break. Lately he has stopped eating his lunch at school because last week he gagged a little on his sandwich and now has fears of it happening again and embarrassing himself. So salami sandwiches are out (which I am not too sad about) but the fact is that there aren't a lot of things I can just throw in his lunch to substitute. This is a child that will NOT let me even put a small piece of candy (though he loves candy) in his lunchbox because it's not exactly what was in it the day before. I find myself begging, "please son, let me put this chocolate chip cookie in your lunch!" Ok, maybe not begging, but you get the picture.
So I will keep scratching my head about Rowen's lunchtime woes and hopefully come up with an answer. We will also have to see how he feels about the lack of trains under the tree this year. Hopefully we can loosen that grip a little and enjoy what Christmas is about anyway. It's about the birth of our Savior. Thank goodness we can rely on that. Quite predictably.
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