It’s been a long week for us. The crazy weather started Sunday as Rob’s autism anxiety grew steadily as the day went on. I knew there was a possibility of a little snow Monday, but he knew better. He began asking for his workshop about mid-afternoon and had worked himself up to being unable to stop his “storm song” by evening. I should have known he knew something was coming.
Monday morning, I got up to find Rob already awake and asking for work. He took his pills and his breakfast back to his room and I turned my phone on to see what was going on. Luckily, I did this before I woke Casey up – their workshop was closed due to icy roads. I told him it was closed and he was going to stay home with me that day. He wasn’t pleased, but seemed more relaxed than he had the day before.
He went back to sleep and was happier when he got up. He did keep telling me they were going to work Tuesday and I agreed with him that they would be going. We had a pretty good day with him reminding me many times that he really wanted to go to work the next day.
Late in the day, I heard about another possible storm heading our way. It wasn’t supposed to reach us till late in the week, so I didn’t think too much about it. Rob didn’t seem too concerned, so I wasn’t either. Until Wednesday, when I came home from work.
As I parked in the garage, I already heard his storm song. I couldn’t believe he was already sensing the storm! I checked my phone to see if something was closer than I thought, but there was nothing predicted until the end of the week. The weathermen were predicting rain – or possibly 24″ of snow. Rob told me snow. And he continued to sing his storm song.
His song got louder as the evening went on, but he did go to sleep fairly quickly. Thursday, his storm song was almost constant. He laughed when I asked if we were going to get rain or a lot of snow. (He has a very devilish giggle when he thinks I’m being especially goofy!)
Friday, it was still pouring rain, but the storm was coming. All of the schools in our area were closing early and so was their workshop. We were safely at home before the ice started, then the snow. This morning, we had about 6″ of snow at our house, with drifts over a foot deep in some places. He was right again.
When the kids were little, I had a coat rack in the dining room for their backpacks when they got home from school. I always knew there was a snow day coming when Rob put his backpack in his room instead of the coat rack. He was wrong once – school closed because of a flood, not snow. He is much more reliable than any weatherman.
Rob is happily playing with his Legos now. No storm songs and no squeals. Casey is singing and says the snow is all done. And I’m left wondering again just how sensitive they have to be to know when bad weather is coming. I can’t imagine being able to feel the barometer dropping, though I suppose many of us do in one way or another. Whether it’s a sinus headache or achy joints, we feel the changes.
I am so proud of the way the kids handle their sensitivities. I know he gets loud and she shuts down, but I can’t imagine what I would do. When my patience is running out – when I’ve heard the same darn phrase 100 times in the last ten minutes – I have to keep telling myself that they aren’t trying to annoy me.
They are simply trying to handle a pain that I can’t even imagine. They are just communicating their needs in a way that I understand. I have to stay calm or his anxiety will go even higher and he will get louder. I remind myself that he can’t help it – that they are both coping the best they can, just like the rest of us.
I am constantly amazed that he knows exactly when rain/snow will start. He walked into the dining room a few minutes ago and looked out the window. I said that the snow was all done. He looked at me and laughed – and it was snowing again. I don’t know how many times he has shut the windows just a minute or two before the rain starts.
Can you imagine being that sensitive to things in our every day life? To foods or textures or noises or odors? Can you imagine feeling pain when you have to wear a certain type of clothing? Or feeling sick when someone tries to force you to eat a gooey food? It’s no wonder many people with autism hate crowds – imagine the smells and sounds!
My kids are stronger than I am. The constant assault on my brain/body would be more than I could handle. I know they don’t understand that not everyone feels/smells/hears like they do. I’m sure they assume everyone is like them, but I wonder. Do they ever watch us and wonder what our lives are like? Do they wonder why Mandy got to learn to drive and they didn’t? Or why she lives in another house and they don’t?
For now, I’ll be happy that the storm song is quiet. And I’ll be ready to listen when he starts singing it again.