We are fighting over headphones.
Noise cancelling headphones to be specific.
I cannot find them. I must find them. I must attach one of these 25 dollar indestructible camp labels to them rightthisverymoment.
Technically they are supposed to sit for 24 hours to properly affix themselves.
For 25 dollars I think they should do that a lot faster but whatever…that’s not really the issue here.
I cannot find EB’s noise cancelling headphones. Camp starts tomorrow.
Camp. That’s right. Like regular kid camp.
Also, I cannot breathe.
I wish my meds would kick in.
Gus and I are fighting over headphones.
It goes something like this:
Me: I cannot find the headphones. When was the last we had them? The gym is really loud. We need to find them right now.
Gus: The gym isn’t loud.
Me: You weren’t even there.
Gus: EB, was the gym at camp loud?
EB: No.
Gus: Do you need your headphones?
EB: No. I am Darth Vader.
Gus: He says he doesn’t need them.
Me: He says he is DarthVader too. He needs them. Just in case…
Gus: Just in case what? Why do you want him to stand out? He’ll be the only kid wearing headphones.
Me: Or he’ll be the only kid freaking out, cause it’s not like that’s never happened before IN A GYM…
Gus: <Storms out>, I’ll go buy another pair since it’s that important.
Me: Bring me some Coke Zero too?
<Slam>
Camp is the scariest thing ever. I honestly have no idea how I am going to survive this. Oh they are wonderful and kind and inclusive. The city is even providing an inclusion companion for him full time. Really, it’s a good place.
But the kids. The kids are scary.
Kids without disabilities scare me to death. It’s true. They can be so mean. Maybe they aren’t even trying to be mean but that’s just how “normal” is?
And normal…we aren’t normal.
He needs this. He needs the interaction and the social aspect. He needs the activities and time with other children. It’s what’s right.
But the only thing that feels right in this moment is to…I don’t know.
Run away to the beach for like ever? Quit work and stay at home to devote my every minute to orchestrating his social calendar?
Find the headphones?
I suppose we have to find the headphones. We have to send them. Just in case. I have to finish this social story. Just in case. I have to laminate a few relaxation schedules. Just in case.
Because at some point I can’t just keep him attached to my hip. At some point we all have to face the real world and find our place in it.
Headphones or not.
Deb,
We have noise cancelling headphones! I will get them out for Peter. Chill, if you can, please. We’ll get through this!
Breathe. How long is he one for
Thanks for posting this, Debby. I’ve been freaked out about “regular kid camp” for at least five months, but the people at work don’t get it. I tell them “You know how you are just dropping your kid off at camp and sort of pissed about how much it costs? Well, I had to call around to fifty jillion camps just to see if they run screaming and sobbing when they hear the word “autism”. And even at the very nice camp we chose, I bet there’s a 60% chance my kid will get thrown out. He’s sweet. He’s smart. But it doesn’t matter”.
First two days were great, of course. Third day, wheels start to fall off. And we’ve got four long weeks left.
Hope EB is liking his camp and it is a success.
It’s funny how their anxieties become our own. Hope you found the headphones and some peace of mind!