My head today is stuffed with clouds. I had plans. Plans I was looking forward to. This was to be my first week working out 4 days at my gym in group classes. I ADORE group classes, mostly because, without the group, I am not going to work out. In fact, last night I indulged in a peanut butter binge because I knew I would be running and doing pushups today and, whatever, I felt justified.
But this morning didn't go as planned. Sometimes mornings don't. Here's where this turns into an autism post.
When I opened my eyes, my husband reminded me that he had a 7AM appointment and I needed to drive the kids to school. I instantly recalled all of the following:
Lunches were not packed. I do that the night in advance but gave myself a break last night because my husband would be around to help. Crap.
We were almost out of breakfast cereal. That meant I needed a second plan to get all three kids fed while packing their lunches.
I had about 75% less time to get dressed, get the kids dressed, feed them, do lunches and get out the door than I'd planned for. Double crap.
I needed to magically get back home by 8AM because that was when the contractor was due to arrive to fix the floors. I also could not leave Kid 1 at home to work because the contractor might arrive and there are legal issues. And Kid 1 hadn't been warned in advance and AUTISM MEANS YOU NEED TO KNOW THINGS IN ADVANCE.
When I don't receive the memo.
See where this is going? I'm not done yet. Here are more thoughts that slammed around in my skull as I failed to make my own transition:
My workout was scheduled for 9 which meant I had to leave no later than 8:30 which is when my kids' behavior coach arrives and school turnaround means I won't get home until 8:30 which means I can't let the contractor in until then which means I have to cancel the workout I just got dressed for and have been looking forward to and OH MY GOD.
I felt like I was drowning.
My brain shut down. I started stuttering and looping my thoughts. My kids asked me questions and I alternately said "Please don't talk to me right now" and cried.
Morning did happen. My 4th grader walked my kindergartner into class so I could get home by 8:15. My eldest brought his school work in the car so he could meet his goals before his 8:30 appointment. I cancelled that workout which gave me the space to meet up with the contractor. The contractor cancelled on my at 8:45. He cited a family emergency.
Shortly after, Kid 1 broke down over the hurried transitions. I dealt with an argument my spouse and I were in the middle of because I'd forgotten to tell him I scheduled the repair and we weren't on the same page about which repair to have. Ultimately, we agreed the course I set was a good one and to go ahead except now I have no contractor.
It's humid outside. I can feel the weight of the air pushing on my brain. I want to sleep. I want to rest and wake up again and have a do over.
This isn't a complaint. Consider it an exploration. Most autists need advance warning. We need routine and plans. Surprises can be fun, but interruptions can spin us into a meltdown. As I write this, I'm resisting stimming. My ears want pressure to balance the stress inside my head.
Even though the morning is done for me, even though I'm through it--I made it--I haven't actually made it. It will take me another full day to deal with the unexpected elements that occurred between 6:30 and 8:45 AM. I accept this about myself. Acceptance makes it a bit easier.
I hope by sharing this you may come to understand why a child at the grocery store might epically blow up over hearing "no" to a candy bar even if they seem old enough to know better. Hold space instead.
By the way, do this for their parents, too.
I'm 35. I "know better" than to melt down, but that isn't the same thing as being able to self-regulate. This morning I have cried, had a panic attack, shouted for my kids to not talk to me, stuttered and looped and generally confused words to the point I was impossible to understand, mangled lunches, half-assed breakfasts and stood staring at a dirty spot wondering how the eff to clean it up. All because there was a relatively small change in my timeline that ultimately worked out.
If I have a lifetime of experience managing this type of transitional stress, can you imagine how hard it must be for a 10 year old?
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