Ahhhh....finally, summer has officially arrived and the weather in south central PA finally decided to check the calendar and go with it. After a wet, cool spring, swim season is finally upon us and like the mutant Kevin Costner in Waterworld, Ryan's summertime evolution has kicked in and his gills and webbed feet are back. If the pool water is over 80 degrees, the goggles are readily available, the forecast calls for mostly sunny skies and the bees are taking a summertime snooze, then my sweet, mutant, fish boy is in his happy place...in the pool and under the water.
Ryan has always loved the water. Whether it was the bath tub as a baby (once the loud, scary faucet was turned off), the cheap plastic pool in the backyard, the big Atlantic ocean or the wave pool at Disney's Typhoon Lagoon, Ryan is just happier in the water. It appears he and Kevin Costner are not alone. Many kids on the autism spectrum love the water. Maybe the water is calming to their overly sensitive bodies. Maybe it's the deep pressure from the pull of the ocean that provides these kids with a feeling similar to a big squeezy tight hug that so many autistic children need to regulate their system. For Ryan, I think it is all those things, but, I think it's the silence under the water that he likes best. Underwater, the world grows quiet and peaceful, until of course his neurotic mother screams and snatches him out of the pool by his goggle strap when his "dead man float" lasts a little too long ("too long" equals me counting past 10, and yes I really do).
For anyone who has ever stepped into a hot bubble bath and slowly sunk down in the water with an "aaahhhh...." while the worries of the day slowly disappear beneath the bubbles, you know how soothing the water feels. Now multiply that feeling times a thousand and you will get a sense of how water feels to Ryan and kids like him. I have seen first hand how water effects Ryan. The water is very therapeutic and calming to his highly sensitive, terribly overloaded sensory system, so Ryan just feels good soaking in a tub, submerging in a pool or standing in the waves of an ocean that hugs him tight. And with Ryan's fight or flight response diluted in the water, he is happier, less anxious and sometimes, more social.
We put in our own pool three years ago and for someone who obsessively worries about a toddler drowning in a bucket when washing the car, you can imagine the terror a pool evoked in me. When Dan and I weighed the pros and cons of the pool, AWEnestly, it was the joy a pool would give Ryan that tipped the scale. First of all, swimming is about the only form of exercise my slug-like son gets, unless of course jumping up and down to make Mario go faster on the Wii counts. Secondly, I knew in a world that is loud, scratchy, scary and chaotic, the water is one place where Ryan seems to shut out all the over-stimulating prickliness and relaxes a bit. This calm feeling tends to decrease Ryan's social anxiety which allows him to open up to others more so when wet than when dry.
Prior to having our own pool, we would spend our summer afternoons at a private neighborhood pool rather than the loud, overcrowded public pool. One day when we were at the pool cooling off, the only boy Ryan ever considered a "friend" at the time, came to the pool to cool off too. Ryan was under water, alone and enjoying his fairly soundproof, underwater world. When he finally bobbed up for a quick breath of air (he really isn't a mutant with gills), I yelled, "Ryan, your friend J is here!". Ryan beamed from ear to ear and made a beeline for the steps. AWEnestly, I had never seen him so excited over a friend before! Denial was at the pool that day wearing her designer label swimsuit and sunglasses when she quickly whispered in my ear, "Look how happy he is, that is social and emotional reciprocity, he doesn't have The A word."
However, the instant my fish boy was back on dry land, I immediately saw the metamorphosis from fish to boy. As the water pooled at Ryan's feet where moments ago there were fins and as he struggled to catch his breath with lungs and not gills, Ryan looked like a fish out of water. The calming influence of the water evaporated as did Ryan's confidence. It was like watching a fish flop around on a boat deck. Ryan's hand was twitching to and fro and his eyes kept averting his friend's gaze and going back to the water where he longed to breath with his gills again. As Ryan's friend greeted him, Ryan's genuine smile was replaced with his awkward, unnatural, autismy smile and he scripted some line from SpongeBob (ironic that SpongeBob lives in a pineapple under the sea, right?). Ryan quickly turned away from his friend, drawn back to the calmness of the water, and ran off alone to enjoy the springy sensation of the diving board and the glorious pressure like hug of sinking into the "deep end". I pushed Denial in the pool.
However, the instant my fish boy was back on dry land, I immediately saw the metamorphosis from fish to boy. As the water pooled at Ryan's feet where moments ago there were fins and as he struggled to catch his breath with lungs and not gills, Ryan looked like a fish out of water. The calming influence of the water evaporated as did Ryan's confidence. It was like watching a fish flop around on a boat deck. Ryan's hand was twitching to and fro and his eyes kept averting his friend's gaze and going back to the water where he longed to breath with his gills again. As Ryan's friend greeted him, Ryan's genuine smile was replaced with his awkward, unnatural, autismy smile and he scripted some line from SpongeBob (ironic that SpongeBob lives in a pineapple under the sea, right?). Ryan quickly turned away from his friend, drawn back to the calmness of the water, and ran off alone to enjoy the springy sensation of the diving board and the glorious pressure like hug of sinking into the "deep end". I pushed Denial in the pool.
Obviously, I am not the only parent to notice this water autism connection. There are numerous websites that promote surfing for kids with an autism spectrum diagnosis. Surf camps up and down the east coast as well as off the coast of California are hot tickets for summer time fun for both kids and their parents living with autism. Surfers for Autism (www.surfersforautism.org) and Surfers Healing (www.surfershealing.org) are just two of the top sites listed for surf camps specifically for kids who "crave the wave". The testimonials from parents whose kids have attended these surf camps or these day long events are AWE-inspiring. Kids who make little eye contact and dislike touch are high fiving and hugging surf coaches who they have known for a day. Kids who hate bright sun, sticky sand and new articles of clothing, are spending hours in the summer time sun covered in sand, lathered up with "slippery" sunscreen and strapping on safety vests while begging for "more beach please". Parents report witnessing a "life changing moment" for their son or daughter when they are in the ocean on a board. Kids become more relaxed, more verbal, more social, and well, just....more. Water, who knew?!
I remember the first time Ryan walked into the ocean as a toddler. So many kids feel the "pull" of the tide and are frightened by it. Not Ryan. He just kept walking, almost like he wanted to feel the pull of the ocean deeper on his body. Not just on his toes, but on his arms, his belly and his chest. Dan and I watched laughing until we realized he had no intention of stopping. That child would have walked across the Atlantic if we weren't there to pull him out. My frightened little boy who feared so many things, has never feared the water. We have tried to instill in Ryan a respect for the water because when something feels so good, sometimes craving that feeling can outweigh any safety issues ever taught by nutso worrying Mom. Parents of water loving, craving kids have to be vigilant.
My poor little fish out of water would probably love a life under the sea where his only concern would be what to eat next and no one would care whether or not he knows the "right" way to greet someone. I hope The Little Mermaid knew how good she had it when she got to choose lungs or gills, legs or fins. On both of our trips to Disney World, Ryan could have cared less about Ariel, the Little Mermaid, but her fin would have come in handy. After two Disney World trips and thousands of dollars later, all Ryan cared about was the surf pool at Typhoon Lagoon. We spent hours and hours there where after endless days of walking in loud, crowded, hot, noisy parks, Ryan could finally breath again with the deep pressure of the wave pool giving him that much needed squeezy tight hug. Ryan was happy jumping the waves and rolling in the "surf" and with no chance of shark attacks or rip tides, Ryan's nut bag mother was happy too.
Don't get me wrong, chlorinated pool water, or salty ocean water is not holy water, it certainly does not cure autism, like my nearly drowned friend Denial thought. Submerging Ryan into water won't make him the class president or captain of the football team, but the water seems to help loosen the anchor of autism that sometimes makes his brain stuck in the muck. When I was preparing to write this piece, I asked Ryan why he likes to be under the water so much when he is in the pool and he said, "I feel calm under there and I can't hear Emma's annoying voice all the time." My AWEnest Man.
Until the Polar Ice Caps melt submerging the Earth in water causing us humans to mutate in order to adapt to our new Waterworld, Ryan will have to continue coping and surviving on dry land. Although he may feel like a fish out of water, Ryan will have to work hard at drowning out annoying sounds that "hurt his brain" without sinking under water. Ryan will have to settle for my giant, squeezy tight hugs in lieu of the pull of the ocean tides 51 weeks out of the year. Ryan will have to learn to count to 10 and take deep breaths with his lungs since he was not born with gills in order to calm himself when the world gets too unorganized, too messy and too confusing. As Ryan's "go to" Mom, I know how hard it is for Ryan to do all those things and that is why I will allow my water boy to spend the majority of his pool time under water as I count to 10 before throwing an inner tube at his head to make sure he is not testing his gills. As his Mama, I will be the soothing, calming presence in his life when summer storms, cool water temperatures and busy bees keep Ryan from his beloved underwater world. However, on the days when all the stars align, and the temperature of the pool is over 80 degrees, there is not a cloud in the sky, the goggles aren't too tight and the bees have slipped into a pollen induced coma, I will hand Ryan a snorkel and a pair of fins and happily lifeguard my beautiful fish who feels calm, happy and....home.
Even if he had gills, I'd still worry about sharks.
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