Where the Hell is the Ranch?!?!

Kamp lives in a world he doesn’t understand, and that makes him nervous and very, VERY uncomfortable. He copes by sticking to a routine; it helps him feel safe knowing what’s coming next. And because Kamp doesn’t understand language very well,  warning and preparing him for changes in his routine is out of the question. When the routine is broken he hits, screams, cries and kicks; freakouts can last anywhere from a few minutes to hours.

Changes can be miniscule, like not zipping up his coat (all the way), taking a different way to the gym that he doesn’t recognize, or putting on his shoes and not going outside right way. In fact, when Jesse was working at Macaroni Grill we’d stop by to visit. If we didn’t park the car, go inside, sit down and order his Mac ‘n Cheese he would lose it. You think YOUR kid won’t stop screaming? I’ve got one that’s about to start kindergarten, who is pereptually stuck in the terrible two’s. The terrible two’s on steroids!

At meal times Kamp has a staple that I think most people who were raised in Utah can relate to – Ranch Dressing. The kid dips EVERYTHING in it! Pizza, chicken nuggets, sandwiches, hands,  toy dinosaur, you name it, he’ll use it to eat his beloved ranch. So a couple of weeks ago – I’m not sure where my brain was – I forgot to pick up ranch and…we ran out. It was dinner time, Kamp sat down to eat his favorite (pizza) and saw that there was no white dipping sauce on his plate. He walked over to the fridge, looked right  in the spot his favorite condiment calls home and of course, it was empty. He started combing the fridge then walked over to me grabbed my hand and led me over to the fridge, opened it and moved my hand toward the empty space.  I tried to explain, “I’m sorry Kamp, but we ran out of ranch. Daddy will pick some up on the way home.”

I am positive he didn’t understand a word I said, but he did understand when I closed the door empty handed that we didn’t have the salad dressing. He started jumping up and down and screaming like an ape.  He started running into me and proceeded to head butt my leg and slap me over and over. I usually try to ignore him at first to see if he will calm himself down. Sometimes he does; this time…not so much. I turned around and wrestled him to the ground. I had to lay on top of him to apply enough pressure so that his nervous system would tell his brain to RELAX. All in all, it was about a twenty minute tantrum. The story ended when Dad came home with the ranch and Kamp finally ate his dinner.

I learned a valuable lesson; my house will ALWAYS have ranch dressing so we don’t have to endure what we call the, “Where the Hell is My Ranch?!” tantrum ever again!

Woodchips

Throughout the day – with Kamp – there always seems to be an air of tension that never goes away. During the day, I’m not even aware I’m so tense until he’s beautifully asleep and the tension disappears; I can actually feel my body relax. Part of that is because children with autism become very obsessed over seemingly random things, which explains why I have a bald spot in my carpet. Kamp noticed that the carpet wasn’t perfectly lined up, so he made the only logical choice and picked out the piece that was longer, which of course pulled another one up. He couldn’t let that happen so he picked out another and so on, and so on, and on, and on! Now I have a patch of carpet missing. So whatever it is, whether it’s slamming  doors over and over again, or pushing out window screens, or making holes in our walls – he’s always fixated on something.

I think his favorite fixation has ALWAYS been woodchips. The boy loves those damn woodchips! If we are in our yard he has to dump them all over our hose box, or throw them down the window well. Everytime we go to the park  and there are wood chips he has a ritual of making  a line of woodchips around the entire playground before he can go play.

Last week we were at the park, and he was doing what he always does, making the line with those woodchips. He was so content and focused on his little ritual when a little boy came up and decided it looked fun and wanted to help. Kamp got a look of pure panic and he started moving faster and faster to get his job done. The little boy went to the middle of Kamp’s line and wiped a bunch of wood chips off.  Kamp saw him and …….LOST IT! He starts screaming, shoved the little boy and frantically tried to fix the horrible injustice! He realized it was beyond repair and started scraping off the woodchips while screaming his lungs out.

I helped the little boy up, made sure he was okay and took him back to his Dad, all the while recieving evil glares from other parents around the playgound. I helped Kamp up and then did what Jesse and I call “the walk of shame.” It’s where we walk away after an awkward situation with Kamp and feel stabbing glares at our back. It feels horrible and I wish everyone just knew, but I can’t control what other people think, just like I can’t control the fact that my son won’t eat meat, won’t wear a regular swim suit (he has to wear a speedo), or the fact that he LOVES those damn wood chips!

Our Beginning

I have three amazing kids:  Hadley (6), and two boys, Kampbell “Kamp” (4) and Max (9-months) and I’ve decided to start a blog. Call it fun, call it entertaining, you might even call it depressing, but I call it an outlet to talk about my journey and sometimes fight for my 4 – almost 5-year-old son Kamp, who is funny, energetic, super-smart, so cute and also very autistic.

Let me start at the beginning…

I first met Kamp in the wee hours of the morning on August 7, 2006 and I was instantly in love!  I immediatley felt like no girl would ever be good enough for him. He had huge blue eyes that covered most of his face and he was stretching his neck like Lord Volde…err I mean, “He Who Must Not Be Named” from the  Harry Potter movies. How could I not be in love, right?!

Kamp was an awesome baby; looking back, maybe a little too awesome. He was completely indifferent! Pick me up, dont pick me up – whatever. He always wanted to be swaddled super tight and by the time he was six-months-old he would quietly watch an entire movie (Shrek was his favorite) in his bumboo chair. It was heaven!

By the time he could walk we were constantly finding him sleeping in the weirdest places. When we found him sleeping in a bottom drawer in our kitchen we should have noticed something was off. We just thought he was like my brother Don, who just didn’t really care to be social and had some different quirks. Thats fine, right?

It wasn’t until he was fifteen-months-old that I started to get concerned. He didn’t show a preference for anyone, and he treated his sister, who is just eighteen months older, like she didn’t exsist.  He never responded to words like “cookie” or “sippy,” things that other kids his age would’ve done flips for. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was deaf. After tests were done, it was determined that he wasn’t hearing very well due to build up in his ear canal from chronic ear infections. We had tubes put in and thought that was that.

When we didn’t see any improvement, my brother-in-law Dr. Toran MacArthur – who is amazing by the way – suggested that we have him tested for autism. We waited six agonizing months to get him in, and after about two short hours of observation and about 100 questions, we were given the diagnosis,  Autism. Then the psychologist said, “With early intervention it is possible for him to have a completely normal life. Here are some books you can read and the number for Kids on the Move in your area. Good Luck.” Wait! What? We were scared, shocked, dumb founded! What about a cure, where’s the instruction manual and follow-up visit? The problem with autism is that there really isn’t a set plan; with a kid like Kamp who doesn’t say a word and has never really mimicked it’s all a kind of guessing game. So, let the games begin, right?

Whew! That’s where our autism story begins. It is a terrifying, emotional, clumsy, HILARIOUS and always suprising journey full of laughter, frustration, tears and joy, all wrapped up in one beautiful little boy – one I will never stop fighting for!