Saturday, August 21, 2010

Where are your clothes? Your shoes and where are you?

I lost my clothes.
not lost.
Go get your clothes.
I do not want to get my clothes.
Quick, go and get them.
I do not want to.
Where are they
are they in the bathroom.
No... giggle... on the refrigerator.
I want juice.
Well get your clothes.
first juice..
well then... put on your pyjama pants.
Whine (puts them on)
Are you finished.
Yes I want juice

A little while later he runs into the garden. I let him be even if he has no shoes on the weather is still rather warm. he is laughing with his brothers. I feel happy and hopeful. Will you watch him and play with him for a while, I ask his brothers.
They are to young to watch an autistic runaway.
But he has lulled me into false security. I have been relaxed this summer. I have watched him but I have not been overly anxious...

Less than five minutes later he is gone.
I run in circles, there is a team of little boys on bikes gathered and circling the neighborhood. Ten minutes later I am frantic. Twenty minutes later I stop a police car. They return a few minutes later with him and his tricycle.
Blond barefoot boy on a bike.
He was gone about thirty minutes, he went pretty far cycling as hard as he could i guess.
I am crying, his brothers are crying.
He does not have a care in the world coming home in apolice car sitting beside a giant man wearing black uniform.
As I sit on the stairs crying as we all do when there is nothing to be afraid of any more.
He comes and hugs me.
I have a hard time to stop crying. Thinking he will be lost to me on some level always and forever. My hubby calmly informs me that he himself got lost at that age, he went to look at curtains apparently.
I wonder what Sturla went to look at. It would really make me happy to know that he had some plan.........
I wish I could stay unafraid.
I tried to have a conversation about what happened.
Not much luck.
Did you go cycling.
Who brought you home? (Wh questions have not been mastered and generalization in the program about who does what including police men is still not fluent)
Was it a cat?
Yes.(Always a good option when unsure, I was hoping for a no and a giggle)
A black humongous cat, I presume with a drivers license.


  1. a giant hug
    how frightening it must have been
    my Dh also grounds me sometimes and reminds me NT kids do all sorts of things that ASD kids do sometimes

  2. I am trying to contact you as I would love for you to do a guest post on the Irish Autism Action blog. Would you be able to email me about it? Thanks. Jen