Had I foreseen the day today, I probably never would have gotten out of bed. It started out simple enough as Nea and I snuggled in bed this morning, laughing and playing.
"Mama, I'm hungry! Lets go eat pancakes!" It sounded like a fabulous idea, and I was starving myself. We were dressed and out the door within 20 minutes, talking about pancakes the whole time.
We went to our usual chain pancake place here in town. There were quite a few people there and we had to wait. Of course that's not something easy for my girl, but we tucked ourselves in a corner bench and pulled out the iPad. The restaurant seemed loud to me, and soon enough she asked for her paci. I figured the sound was too much and she needed to cope. I handed her the usual 2 pacis. One is for her mouth and one is to flick on her nose.... one of her most frequent stims since she was an infant. 20 minutes later (and a surprisingly well coping girl) they were ready to seat us.
The restaurant is divided in half. Seating on the left, the center (where the cashier is located) and then more seating on the right. I followed the waitress as she turned right. Nea followed me, and then stopped suddenly.
"No! Not that way!! This way!" ...she pointed to the left seating area.
"Nea, come on sweetie. We aren't sitting there today. We are sitting over here."
"No! Mama! NO! I CAN'T! I can't sit there. I sit over here. With my Raquel and eat pancakes!"
This was not a soft conversation. This was full blown screaming with hand gestures and foot stomping.
"Nea. Listen, there is no room over there, we have to sit at this spot. See, there's a little booth over here too that we are going to sit."
"No!! I can't!! NO!!! It's not fair!"
The iPad was tossed to the floor. One of the dinosaurs she had in her hand was thrown across the room. The crying became manic and desperate. I had only one choice.
We had to leave.
The waitress was confused. Patrons in the restaurant looked stunned. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention to them because I was focused on her. She started shaking and hitting herself. It was really time to go.
I grabbed her hand, and headed for the door. "No!! Mama! I want pancakes!! Pancakes!!"
I ignored her pleas, put her in the car and buckled her in. I always get nervous when she's in that state because of the fear she will bolt and the parking lot was busy. Once she's locked safely in her car seat, I can take a deep breath. She continued to cry and lament about pancakes as I drove off. Pancakes were the new fixation, and I wanted to meet that need if I could. The morning had been such a disaster so far, I really needed to redeem it somehow.
I headed to the OTHER restaurant, across town. Same chain. I called my Mom on the way there and cried into the phone about how bad of a morning we were having.
She calmed me down and talked me off the ledge, the way that only mothers know how to do. By the time we got to the restaurant, I was ready to try again.
As soon as we hit the lobby doors, Nea began shouting.
"No! Not this one! The other one! I want pancakes!" I coaxed her inside and we sat on the lobby bench for 15 minutes trying to work up the courage to go have a seat. This one was not quite as busy, and not quite as loud, for which I was grateful.
Finally she said, "I can't do it. Let's go home." Sigh. I wanted a win for her, but she just couldn't do it today. So I resigned myself to the fact that we would take what we could from this, and move on. As we were walking out, I said..." okay, you know that means no pancakes today, right?" She stopped.
"Okay...let's go in. I want pancakes" She held my hand bravely and clung close to me as we waited for the hostess to seat us.
"You can do this sweetie. You're brave and strong. I will help you", I whispered in her ear.
"Okay, Mama."
They sat us in a booth, which Nea balked at immediately. "NO!! The table!" and they were kind enough to let us move over. As we settled ourselves into the seats I felt like I had just climbed a mountain. Nea sat down, a bit traumatized herself.
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| Trying to pull herself together. |
The waitress came over with a smile on her face and a warm heart...."Hi, I'm Angel and I'll be serving you today." She really did feel like an angel with the warmth in her voice and her kind eyes. It was the emotional hug I needed and I spilled my soul to this complete stranger. Tears rolled down my face as I rambled....
"Hi Angel, we've had a rough morning. My girl here has Autism and we were at the other restaurant where they tried to seat us on the right, instead of the left. It didn't go over well. So now we are here and I've spent the last 15 minutes trying to coax her inside for the pancakes she so very much has been looking forward to. She's really scared and out of her comfort zone and I'm a little frazzled myself. I'll have a coke, she'll have a milk."
She simply smiled, "Don't worry honey, I'll take care of you and your girl."
I could have kissed her. The emotion of the morning, the fear of not knowing what to do, the frustration of this damn Autism crap that rules the brain of my girl all piled up into that moment. Unloading that burden to the kind waitress with the gentle eyes was exactly what my heart needed. She was an angel, indeed.
Nea had her yummy pancakes. She even ordered off the menu herself by pointing to the picture. She insisted she didn't want eggs, but ate mine when they arrived. I think I ate a piece of bacon and some toast. I don't remember.
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| Lining up coins. A way to get control. |
I kicked myself for not recognizing that we had established a routine by sitting in the same restaurant and having a waitress named Raquel. I was mad that Autism has such a hold over my girls thoughts that she can't even enjoy a nice pancake unless a specific process occurs. I screamed internally for Autism being such a chain around her that I can never break. I can give her tools, and hopes she learns more and more with each life experience....but the fact of the matter is that I can never get that chain off her. She's going to have to find her own coping skills, her own resources (internal and external) and figure out what works for her. But damn it all to hell that she even has to travel this road.
Angel brought us our check and I thanked her for turning our morning into something good. She smiled at me and touched my arm gently, " Anytime honey. You're doing a great job. Your girl is so sweet and she has those dark eyes that tell a story. It's a good story. You're doing just fine, honey. You're just fine."
Salve to my heart, sealing the crack that was starting to form. My Mom had already put the pieces back together and Angel provided the glue to make them stick.
Do me a favor. One that I don't usually ask. Please share this post.
I want it shared because I want people to know that there might be a Mom in a restaurant doing the best she possibly can with a situation that is beyond her control....and her child's. I want there to be more Angel's in the world who give love and understanding to a strung-out, tearful Mom expecting nothing in return.
And I want the world to know that the chains of Autism my not be able to be broken, but love.....love can make them less heavy.
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| Finally. A yummy pancake! |
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