From the Cry Room to Center Stage

I registered my kids for a bible camp this summer- a Vacation Bible School type of camp on steroids. Main reason being it was Monday-Friday from 8:30-3:30.  A week of solo sanity sounded too good to be true.  It was held at a church we hadn't ever been and it was a huge camp, filled with energy filled kids and energy filled activities to match.  I dropped Squirt off in her quiet area for the little campers first and walked away feeling confident in her comfort level and ability to roll with the camp punches.

Next I brought Dude to the sanctuary...the loud, energy packed sanctuary.  We found his group, The Ark, and I sat him down with 15 other Arkers and two counselors.  I explained to them that he has high functioning Autism, but he typically adjusts quickly and would be fine.  His face was puckered and his hands immediately went into his mouth (of course I forgot his chew necklace, essential in situations like this one).  I decided to sit off to the side to observe for a bit and when he saw me I got a scowl of death.  He was so incredibly uncomfortable in his surroundings and was starting to hunch his body to avoid exposing himself to the chaos any more than he had to.  When the man in the gorilla suit started running toward him I decided to act.  He and I sat in the back row, he looked at me and said, "MOM, did you see the gorilla running at me?  I thought he was going to eat my face!  This place makes my body very nervous."  Then he started weeping in my shoulder and I felt like a complete failure as his advocate and mom.

We left the sanctuary and sat on the stairs while he cried.  With perfect timing, Squirt walked by with her group all smiles and giggling...a reminder of just how different my kids are.  Dude turned and saw the room labeled, "Cry Room" and decided they had made a room just for him and that's where we should go.  It was a welcomed solution.  We watched the chaos of the sanctuary for 45 minutes, listened through the speaker system, talked through his body's reactions to what was going on and came up with a Plan B for the week.  The Cry Room would be his safe haven.  The director of the camp, an amazing new friend, came in and talked through this plan with us and assigned some high school volunteers to be his buddies.  They would sit with him in the Cry Room in the morning and at the close of camp.  He could rest assured that the chaos could be avoided and he would have a place of his very own where his body felt at ease.

After an hour of finding a Plan B and delivering Dude to his first breakout group, I left the building feeling somewhat confident in his camp week but keeping my phone very close.  When I came to pick up my littles, Dude was securely in the Cry Room with his new friends.  The day was good and he smiled with excitement for the next day of camp.  I breathed more freely.  Plan B worked.  Squirt was melting down, but that's normal for my emotional sleep deprived 4 year old.  The day was a success and that felt great.

We followed that plan through Thursday and Friday was the performance for all the parents.  My friend, Dara, and I arrived early and took our seats in the sanctuary.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew Squirt would be on on stage with her group of little people and I had my camera ready.  The kids all filed in and THIS is what my little eyes saw.  THIS is what made my little eyes tear up over. And THIS is what made my heart soar.

 He joined his group in the chaos.  He started in the aisle, dancing like a little fool. 

 He turned around a number of times to find me, looking for my pride.  He knew it would be there.

 

 Toward the end, my son ran on stage and lead the entire camp in song.  The lights were bright, the noise was loud, the visuals were complex and he thrived in his passion for praising Jesus, despite it all.  Not because of me - because of himself.  

 
Plan B provided the security my kiddo needed and the rest he was able to accomplish on his own. We do have to be selective in what situations we force him into, but he proves to us, over and over, how joyful he'll be if given a fair chance to participate in ways that work for his sensory sensitive self.   He needed me that first day.  Sometimes I forget how essential it is to be by his little side through life, but I also forget just how resilient he is and how far a Plan B goes in his world.  Camp High Five was a week that will remain in my heart as a triumphant A+ for my little man (and his Mama).