As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and slowly stumbled down the stairs to get everyone ready for their first full week back to school following the long holiday break, I switched on The Today Show. There sat Natalie Morales with her perfect hair, perfect makeup and perfect haute couture telling viewers how this is reportedly the most depressing day of the year. I didn't need pretty, perky Natalie to tell me that, I was very aware. The holidays, which I love, had been packed up and stashed away in the basement the night before, the kids were heading back to school, Dan was returning to the office after a week at home, and the dreaded three long, ugly months of winter are now upon us. Blah.
There are some shameless people who love the cold, the snow, and the dark days of winter. I am not one of them. In fact, as a tried and true sufferer of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD is the acronym...how poetic), I can totally relate to bears and their need to fatten up in the summer when the sun is bright, picnics are in full swing, and coolers are iced up with everyone's favorite summer time beverages. Then, when it gets cold, dark and depressing, bears go and sleep off that summetime buzz and extra weight all winter long and awake to the beauty of spring time. Clearly, I should have been a bear. Regardless of my winter blues, and moody moments, I think my children and husband would still miss me if I just quietly slipped away and slept for three months, so I have tried to find other ways to cope.
One winter, after crying my winter blues to my doctor, he decided to put me on a low dose antidepressant to help me cope with all things winter. Well, that lasted about
three weeks because the nausea side effects made me go from blue to green. Uh,
no thank you. Sorry kids, sad, grumpy mommy, beats nauseous, pukey mommy. So,
back to the SAD coping drawing board. The next effort was more effective and has
continued for several winters without making me want to puke. I have discovered that losing myself in a world of fiction, fantasy and make believe keeps my winter blues a little less navy blue and a little more aqua blue. An occasional break from reality is healthy, right?
three weeks because the nausea side effects made me go from blue to green. Uh,
no thank you. Sorry kids, sad, grumpy mommy, beats nauseous, pukey mommy. So,
back to the SAD coping drawing board. The next effort was more effective and has
continued for several winters without making me want to puke. I have discovered that losing myself in a world of fiction, fantasy and make believe keeps my winter blues a little less navy blue and a little more aqua blue. An occasional break from reality is healthy, right?
Last winter, I found myself talking with a British accent when I served my children breakfast, and frequently referred to Emma as "my lady" while I lost myself in all three seasons of Downton Abbey (clearly I would have been living downstairs with the help where it appeared to be much more fun) during the month of January. With the long months of February and March still ahead of me, I found myself checking out our back window for the White Walkers to come busting out of the woods as I quickly turned from 1920's England to the Medieval era of Games of Thrones. The glow of my iPad could be seen from the street as I lay in bed watching episode after episode until 2 AM. The year before that it was the Fifty Shades of Grey books....Dan didn't mind that distracting coping mechanism. This year, it has been Orange is the New Black (which has convinced me more than ever to stay on the right side of the law) and Breaking Bad (which has convinced me to wear a gas mask every time I set foot in an unidentified RV). And just when I think I'm coping well for this first week of January, on this most depressing day of the year, I look on the kitchen table and smiling up at me is that happy, freaking mouse trying to convince me that the best way to beat the winter blues is to visit him. Suddenly, Walter White and Crazy Eyes no longer seemed so therapeutic. I longed for that happy mouse and that silly dog (He is a dog, right? If he isn't a dog, then what is he?) named Goofy to beat the winter blues.
Our family has done the Disney thing twice...in 2008 and 2010 and I loved every single second of it (at least this is how I choose to remember it). On that first trip, two members of the family had to be dragged to Disney World kicking and screaming. You guessed it, Ryan ("I've never been there before.") and Dan ("Every ounce of my being doesn't want to go there."), but, they both not only survived Disney twice, they loved it...in their own way (at least this is how I choose to remember it). Ryan feared "new", Dan feared crowds and $6.00 sodas, and well, I feared how we would get there (planes are much too dangerous). We...ok, I, chose the Amtrak Auto Train, which AWEnestly, may have been Ryan's favorite part of our Disney vacation. I'm so glad that my ridiculous fear of dying in a fiery plane crash could provide Ryan with a memorable train ride.
There are numerous websites and books on how to survive a Disney World Vacation and there are entire chapters devoted to helping a child with an Autism Spectrum Disorder make the most out of this survival. After all, Disney World is the pinnacle of over-stimulating good times. Everything is "magical" and nothing is "typical". A recipe for disaster for a child with an ASD. We received our fair share of doomsday warnings. Our pediatrician kind of chuckled, in a slightly evil way, as he suggested he write a note with Ryan's diagnosis in order to avoid waiting in the overcrowded, loud, long queue area with all the masses. A therapist warned us that our first trip would basically result in sensory meltdowns, over-stimulated tantrums and a great deal of autismy behavior. We were even told by one specialist to think of our first trip to Disney World "as a planning trip for the next time we go back." Seriously? Thousands of dollars spent on an experimental Disney trip? I started to feel more like Dan and Ryan, but, we packed our bags and off we went....with a cloud of doom over our heads.
With such a doomsday prophecy, I did everything I could to prepare Ryan. We watched videos on Disney World, we checked out all the rides and activities repeatedly on the Disney website and I made a detailed schedule for each and every day which gave him some sense of control. In each and every park, I tried to convince Ryan which rides he would enjoy. Most of the time, Ryan trusted me and with a little trepidation, he would board the ride with the rest of us. You could see the anxiousness coupled with excitement in his face, and at the end of the ride, he would announce whether or not that ride deserved a second go around. I knew that Splash Mountain, The Tower of Terror and Expedition Everest were out of the question, but, I did convince him to try It's a Bugs Life (we lasted 3 minutes on the first trip and sat through the entire thing on our second trip) and although he enjoyed seeing the animals on the Klimanjaro Safari, he got a little freaked out by the gunshots of the imaginary poachers. Without a doubt, the wave pool at Typhoon Lagoon, with it's deep pressure waves and calming waters, made both trips to Disney World memorable for Ryan.
With Ryan's horrific fear of Santa, I figured the characters at Disney World would scare him too. As seen here, I was proven wrong. Ryan gave hugs, high fives, posed for pictures and even got autographs (until he decided autographs were stupid). My anxious little boy, who hid in the bathroom every 4th of July, even survived, and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say, even enjoyed, his first ever fireworks show. Ryan's ears were covered, he was obviously a bit anxious, but, he watched every single explosion light up the night sky....with a smile on his face. Disney really is a magical place.
Ryan found various ways to cope in Disney World. Lots of ice cream, popsicles and stops at Goofy Candy Shops helped, as did having his iPod Touch charged and at the ready for times when waiting tended to diminish the magic. Checking out Mom's hard core daily schedule also gave him a little peace of mind knowing what was coming next, but without a doubt, the funniest coping mechanism Ryan discovered was Disney's Public Restrooms. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you if that boy saw a restroom sign, magically, he had "to go". With thousands of people entering Disney Parks on any given day, there are a lot of restrooms and lots of very obvious signs pointing out exactly where to find said restrooms.
Of course, this stopping "to go" became a bit frustrating as potty breaks every ten minutes were not built into my itinerary, but, potty breaks sure beat meltdowns. By the end of the week, being the fabulous parents that we are, Dan and I considered capturing a photo of Ryan heading toward potty stop #275, since next to the wave pool at Typhoon Lagoon, Disney's Restrooms appeared to be the highlight of Ryan's trip, but we acted like grown ups and resisted the temptation (shocking, I know).
It wasn't until long after we were home that I finally got it. The constant potty breaks were not a result of too many juice bags or a bladder infection, the bathrooms were probably the one place where there was not constant stimulation. Yeah, the automatic flushing toilets were loud, but, Ryan was familiar with that sound....he expected that sound. Public restrooms were the one thing in Disney World that Ryan knew would function the same way every single time which brought him comfort (regardless of the smell, the germs, and the loud flushing toilets). In the safety of his bedroom, weeks after we returned home, Ryan told me that he liked how "smooth" the walls felt in the bathroom stalls. Smooth and soothing, not bright, rough, bumpy and loud. He never ceases to amaze me.
It wasn't until long after we were home that I finally got it. The constant potty breaks were not a result of too many juice bags or a bladder infection, the bathrooms were probably the one place where there was not constant stimulation. Yeah, the automatic flushing toilets were loud, but, Ryan was familiar with that sound....he expected that sound. Public restrooms were the one thing in Disney World that Ryan knew would function the same way every single time which brought him comfort (regardless of the smell, the germs, and the loud flushing toilets). In the safety of his bedroom, weeks after we returned home, Ryan told me that he liked how "smooth" the walls felt in the bathroom stalls. Smooth and soothing, not bright, rough, bumpy and loud. He never ceases to amaze me.
So, yes, our family survived Disney World...twice. And I guess in some ways the first time did prepare Ryan for our next trip, since there were fewer restroom stops. Ryan enjoyed himself ("except for walking around in all those freaking parks") and often begs to go back. We were warned of how difficult a trip to Disney can be for a child with an ASD and we tried to prepare Ryan before we went and heeded the advice from the websites, the books and the specialists, but, not one of them suggested hanging out in the public restrooms with smooth feeling walls when the days got too long and the magic of Disney started to wane.
Just like I decided to forego the nausea inducing meds to survive my Seasonal Affective Disorder, and have found my own way of surviving the long, cold, ugly winters, Ryan found his own way to survive all the magic of Disney World. Whether it was a swim in the wave pool at Typhoon Lagoon, an $8 popsicle (which gave his father heart palpitations....perhaps a letter from Dan's doctor should be in order for our next trip), a sugary treat from the Goofy Candy Store or a routine pit stop at every visible restroom with it's smooth walls and predictable experience, Disney was still magical, still fun, and still worth the trip.
Ryan will always have naysayers, those who predict the doom and gloom of an autism diagnosis, but, just like Ryan experienced Disney World in his own way, so too, will he experience life in his own way. And although Ryan may not always be able to seek comfort and refuge in a "smooth" walled restroom, I have no doubt, that just like Goofy, regardless of what people think Ryan is or what he is suppose to be, Ryan will continue to discover ways to cope in order to find the magic. You see, Ryan knows just who he is and worries little about who and what others expect him to be....not even Walt Disney can top that kind of magic.
Ryan will always have naysayers, those who predict the doom and gloom of an autism diagnosis, but, just like Ryan experienced Disney World in his own way, so too, will he experience life in his own way. And although Ryan may not always be able to seek comfort and refuge in a "smooth" walled restroom, I have no doubt, that just like Goofy, regardless of what people think Ryan is or what he is suppose to be, Ryan will continue to discover ways to cope in order to find the magic. You see, Ryan knows just who he is and worries little about who and what others expect him to be....not even Walt Disney can top that kind of magic.
Ryan and Goofy....two peas in a pod.
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