Security Part 3 of 3

- from Jeremy

One thing you must understand above all others is that safety is a goal. An ideal. A moving target of a state of being which can elude the most diligent archer. Keeping two Autistic children safe is akin to being hunted by a pack of velociraptors. It's been a long time since humans have been troubled by velociraptors (oh yes, I went there), so I'll refresh your memory. "You stare at him, and he just stares right back. And that's when the attack comes. Not from the front, but from the side, from the other two 'raptors you didn't even know were there."*

That's how it is with our boys. When you're watching Jay-Jay to make sure he isn't going over the fence, that's when Jo is choking on the bottle cap. And when you're chasing Jo down the store aisle, that's when Jay-Jay is climbing out of the cart to head the other way. Being alone with them in public is tense. And the sure knowledge of what can happen if you let that tension lapse . . . well, it's terrifying. I may write some more about this vigilance in the future, but for now let's finish the security talk with two locks that keep the boys safe from the world and one lock which keeps them safe from me.

Yes, there is a Fort Knox feeling to it. You get accustomed.

The first mechanism I'll detail is one that you've undoubtedly seen before. The simple but effective door chain. In the movies these chains can keep a 200-lb intruder frustrated on the stoop. I don't know if they'd really hold up to that much abuse, but they can keep a wandering, no-talker from wandering to death. And the reason for that isn't necessarily that the chain is strong enough to keep the door from opening at all. It just needs to slow them down. The rattling boom that the doors make when you try to open them with the chain in place is a terrific alarm and a perfect speed bump. The only problem with the chains is that they are manually operated, and therefore subject to crippling by human error.

I'm sure you're wondering what my lawn secret is. Neglect.

Another of our security devices that has been defeated by human inattention (my own, if you must know) is the outside gate lock. Now you might think that securing a drive gate is easy, but you'd be wrong. The dainty little latch that comes standard wouldn't keep a blind cow corralled. That could be hyperbole - I'm not really up on cows. Nonetheless, our boys would lift that latch and be gone in two shakes. So we use the carabiner to make sure the latch can't move. Here comes the tricky part. Because both halves of the gate swing away from the middle, you could easily push the gates apart and open having never touched the latch or carabiner. Wait, you say, does not the rod that drops into the hole in the cement keep this from happening? Only if it's long enough, dear one. The original rod left a foot tall gap between itself and the latch causing a genuine vulnerability. So we got the fence guy to bring out a new rod that can't be extracted from the hole in the cement unless the latch is open. The black part that you see between where the gates meet is the fail-safe. It makes it so you cannot close the gate without locking it. It's obviously redundant and possibly unnecessary, but this gate is the most dangerous thing around for our boys. They are constantly looking for ways out, and once they get out they be gone. So better safe and hassled than sorry.

We bought this cabinet pre-abused from Granddaddy's.

As I said, the last security measure that we shall discuss doesn't necessarily protect the boys from harm. It protects some of our more sensitive material possessions from the boys. It's the lock on the entertainment cabinet. Or as my wife calls it, the armwahr, the armwah, or the armoire. Something like that, one of those. Anyway, there's nothing extraordinary in this cabinet. A small television (26" 1080p 60Hz LCD for those who care), a cheap Blu-ray player, what I will refer to as "Jack's" Xbox 360, and a bunch of DVD's and such. It's mostly those DVD's and Blu-ray's that the lock protects. A copy of Beauty and the Beast on Diamond Edition Blu-ray will run you nearly thirty smackers. I didn't pay that much of course, but it's the principal of the thing. And Jo especially is torturous on silicon discs. He bends them and bites them, he throws them and smears things on them, and he sticks them places. He broke the middle out of Cinderella and gouged Lilo & Stitch past playability. On more than one occasion I've seen him using one as a sort of ski on the kitchen tile - silver side down. That just breaks my heart, people.

So there's security. Please let me know if you have any questions, and post any best practices and fresh ideas in the comments below. And if a kid runs past you in Walmart making a funny noise, cover the exit - I'll head him off at the candy aisle.

*The quote is from Jurassic Park, but you knew that.

Outgrowing Josiah

- from Christy

It's been a few weeks since I posted last. The biggest reason being that I've had a lot on my mind, and I haven't been sure which thoughts should be shared next. Living with this disorder causes me to never be short on emotion. It's overwhelming. My tendency to ramble is EVEN GREATER during these times, and I don't want this blog filled with my vapid ramblings. I also feel a responsibility to "post positive." Mama always said, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." The truth is that I feel completely broken at times while having confidence in knowing that our God is perfectly sovereign in all of this.

The title of this post was inspired by an article a friend of ours posted on facebook recently. It was written by a mom of a child living with Autism. I could relate to her perspective completely, and I felt comfort in knowing that I was not the only parent heartsick over the fact that the children around us are outgrowing our boy.

In an endeavor to let the boys run out some of their energy and have a little added social interaction, I have been taking them up to the Christian school where our oldest two kids attend. Josiah and Jalen both attended school there last year, and it has been nice the past two weeks to visit a couple of days during morning playtime in the gym. Seeing Josiah around children his same age causes me sadness that I have difficulty explaining. I'm sure I'll have this same emotional struggle as Jalen gets older too, but Jalen is still babyish. I'm sure the fact that Jalen is so smart has helped to delay these feelings also.

But it's a different story with my precious Josiah. Seeing him run around with the other five-year-old kids and knowing that they are all potty trained, and talking, and independent, makes me long for these same things for my boy. They will soon be standing in cap and gown at their kindergarten graduations, receiving their diplomas as their parents and family watch with pride. There will be no reserved seats for us on that night. These children will move through elementary school, and high school, and college. They will marry someday and have children. I would be lying if I didn't admit that sometimes I long to stop time. I long to give my precious boy time to catch up. But time just keeps ticking by, and Josiah's development continues to stay frozen.

I allow myself these moments of sadness. The pain is a reality that is best dealt with head on. And, when the moment passes, I see the beauty of my child. He has the most angelic hazel eyes that look deeply into your soul. He loves unconditionally. He has no concept of hate or prejudice. He has never spoken an unkind word. I'm his Mama, and he's my boy. I love him, and I am profoundly proud of him. I pray that I never lose sight of his beauty. The pain of other children outgrowing my sweet boy will always be there, but the joy of him being mine forever will be too.