Big Daddy Autism

We all know Griffin loves traffic lights. Like Bogie and Bacall; Griffin and Traffic Lights are a match made in heaven.  Whilst stopped at one of his favorites, Griffin spotted one of those kids who hold signs directing people to “great” sales at nearby businesses.  Nowadays, this type of advertising has become an art form with the kids spinning signs, dancing and throwing the signs up in the air. It can be a bit amusing. But these signs did not amuse Griffin at all.

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The advertisement was for a large, upscale furniture store located on the corner of the intersection. The signs indicated that the store was going out of business and you can get as much as 70% off! This particular store has been having “going out of business” sales every year I have lived nearby. Twenty one years of going under and they are still in business. It’s a miracle. Not quite biblical; but close.

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This is the first year they used the human sign holders to advertise their decades long going out of busness sales. When he spotted them, Griffin became agitated and nervous. He kept asking if Harry’s (not the real name) was going out of business.  He was almost panicked and we couldn’t figure out why. He had never been in Harry’s. We had never purchased as much as a throw pillow from that overpriced establishment. Was he concerned for Harry’s family and well being? The employees being added to the employment rolls?

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Nope. Turns out, Griffin was worried if Harry’s went out of business, they would remove the traffic light we were under. This light (among around 47,000 others) is his “favorite.”  From a city planning point of view there is a semblance of reasonableness about this concern.  Less traffic = less need for a traffic light.  However, the WalMart, CVS, and Chevron station on the other three corners seemed to indicate that there would still be enough traffic to warrant a light. Did I mention that it is on an eight lane road that aways has more congestion than my nose during allergy season?  Finally, he has never, in his entire life, seen a traffic light come down once installed.

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By explaining that the advertising was deceptive and, even in the unlikely event Harry’s went the way of the Twinkie, his precious light would remain.  This sort of calmed him down and he is no longer in deathly fear that this particular traffic light will be put out of service.

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However, whenever we pass the sign holders, Griffin grumbles and glares at them.  I think, once, I saw him give one of them the evil stink eye. Needless to say, we will not be getting our new dining room table at Harry’s.

At 15, Griffin is finally developmentally to the point where he understands (sometimes) that there are consequences to his actions.  This basically means we can finally act like “real” parents and threaten him with stuff (like losing computer privileges) in response to temper tantrums or other inappropriate behavior.  We do not hold him to unrealistic standards and would never ground him for things he cannot control due to his autism.  However, there are some behaviors for which he has coping tools, strategies, and knows how to control. If he doesn’t use his tools, there are consequences.

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I’m certain that his “consequences” differ widely from most NT 15 year olds. Below is a partial list of his consequences, starting from least severe to harshest;

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*As noted above, losing computer privileges for a period of time. This one usually backfires, because when he can’t use the computer, he joins us and bombards us with questions about the weather and traffic lights. Like a prisoner being water-boarded, we quickly give in and he is back on the computer within minutes.

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*No watching the Weather Channel for a period of time.  He hates this one.  He needs to be informed, 24/7 of weather conditions all over the world. This is relatively effective some times.

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*Cancellation of his weekly elevator safari. Most weekends Mrs. Big Daddy takes him to a variety of shopping malls so he can see traffic lights and ride a few elevators.  This one works 90 – 95% of the time.  Only drawback – Mrs. BD actually likes an excuse to go to the mall each weekend.

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These are most of the regular and most used tools in our repertoire. But, like the end of WWII, sometimes you need to take out the big one.  No matter what time of year it is, if the conventional weaponry proves ineffective, we always have our game changer in our back pockets. Call it our Fat Boy, if you like.

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Santa Claus.

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Yup.  Even at 15, Griffin believes whole heartedly in Santa. Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny as well.  We use this to our advantage.  All I have to do is pick up the phone and say, “I’m calling Santa” and the boy almost always snaps to attention.  Griffin doesn’t really like gifts, but he is dreadfully afraid of being on the naughty list. Strange, since his dad never once made the “nice” list.

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Irrespective, I’m planning on using the Santa Claus Card as long as I can. Even when Griffin is older than Saint Nick himself.

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Big Daddy has flirted quite frequently with death.  Fortunately, much like all my flirting in high school and college, I have come away completely unsuccessful every time. Griffin has been fortunate that the only death of someone close to him was his great-grandmother several years back.  We told him she went to heaven. He thought we said New Haven.  On a daily basis, he checked the weather in Connecticut for years before we straightened that one out.

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Griffin is now 15 and he kinda sort of understands the concept of death. It comes up in conversation occasionally.  Basically, he will ask if he will die if he engages in certain activities like jogging or playing with his iTouch after 9:00 PM.  A few months back he expressed concern about who would take him to ride elevators after his mommy died. I volunteered, but he matter-of-factly told me I would already be dead a long long time before mommy. Cold. But true. I hope.

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We diffused that situation by having his sister agree to take him to the mall after we pass. Not much of a sacrifice by Lil Sis since her favorite place on earth is the mall.  We also eased his obsession with his own death by assuring him he will live to age 93.  Seemed arbitrary to me, but he bought it.  Until last week.

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Monday morning we received a phone call from Ms. N (his liaison / aide / lifesaver/ guardian angel / bodyguard) at school. Ms. N informed us that Griffin was refusing to go to science class today and was being quite insistent about it. When she says “quite insistent” it usually means throwing a temper tantrum that would make the Incredible Hulk jealous.

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Turns out, the reason Griff did not want to go to science class was because the teacher was doing an experiment where he would be mixing baking soda and vinegar to see what kind of reaction occurs.  Griffin was convinced that witnessing this experiment would cause certain and immediate death to him. From the way he was carrying on, it was as though he was being forced to bear witness to the denotation of an atomic bomb at close range with only a pair of cheap sunglasses to protect him.

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He knows if we have to come to school to pick him up early for tantrums or similar behaviors there are consequences.  We told Ms. N to remind him of that.  The rest of the school day passed and we didn’t receive another call from Ms. N.  Either he got over his fear and went to science class or he used one of his permitted passes to go to the resource center – a quiet room where he can chill and listen to music.  Either way, he made it through the day.

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At the end of the day, when he came bopping out of school with his usual ear to ear smile, I asked how he did in science.  He replied, as if nothing had happened earlier;

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“Great!! I did not die!!”

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I beamed with pride at my brave (but clearly delusional) boy.

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