So many friends say they can’t figure out Facebook, don’t know how to re-post a status or copy a photo.
There’s no magic wand, in fact, it’s REALLY simple. I hope that I can help de-mystify a couple tech actions. Below are the most requested action items from friends.
Let me know if I can provide additional clues…
Copy, paste:
1. Select text by clicking and dragging over text you want to copy. 2. Let go of mouse button when your text/item is selected. 3. Push keyboard keys Control (Ctrl) and letter C together at the same time. (this is keyboard shortcut for copy in all pc programs) 4. Without pushing mouse button, navigate mouse to your Facebook status bar, document, or wherever you want it placed. 5. Click mouse button 6. Push keyboard keys Control (Ctrl) and V (this is keyboard shortcut for paste in all pc programs)
Voila!
Copy/Save an image:
1. Navigate your mouse to an image or photo without pushing mouse button 2. Push opposite mouse key (yes, that other button is there for good reasons!) 3. Holding right button, scroll down to “Save Picture” and click 4. A menu will appear with your computer’s files 5. Pick a file and double click to save. 6. Now you have it! 7. Beware of copyright infringement.
More itty bitty tips:
Save working files often: Control (Ctrl) and S
Undo: My personal favorite, more people should use it, lol. Control (Ctrl) and Z
When all else fails…
Go to Google, Yahoo, Bing or your favorite search engine and type in your question.
Example: How do I copy a status on Facebook?
You’ll be amazed at how many tutorials are at your fingertips.
YouTube is another great place to search those questions, and you can watch a video tutorial to learn. This method is wonderful for visual or oral learners.
Everything I Learned About Copying and Pasting I Learned After Design School (Tech Backstory)
Remember these archaic telephone modems? I got into computers shortly after college when graphics started going digital. The first computer I worked on was an ancient black and white Mac with a screen just a wee bit bigger than a slice of bread. First project: I laid out a 200+ page tech catalog on that baby Mac. Hilarious! Actually, not so much. I got carpal tunnel from all the scrolling before anyone knew what carpal tunnel was.
Back then, Macs and Pc’s were polar opposites, and communication between the 2 was horribly glitchy. As a result, I got to know many, many IT guys (yup, an-all male field then, at least in my experience). I watched, asked questions and learned. I had a tech direct hotline (not really, but it sometimes seemed that way). Some techs groaned when I called (no caller ID then either, they couldn’t avoid me) and a couple techs I got to know so well from sheer continuity, we dated. Very risky, thinking back on it. I wouldn’t want to piss them off – they were my lifeline to clients, printers and media everywhere!
A couple of firms I worked for also paid for computer training courses. This was where I learned the most valuable long-term tricks. These days digital graphics is a pretty seamless production. But…if the world’s computer screens ever go black, I can do the whole process the messy, prehistoric drawing board method. I miss those chemical smells, ink globs, rubylith overlays. Not.
Mommy had a bit of a perky bonus today. I took some time for basic maintenance/updating on my blog, facebook and emails. Blogger has a new format - they must be trying to keep up with Facebook, who changes formats and privacy options it seems monthly.
In the midst of checking out the new changes, I saw they have enhanced the detail area of site hit demographics (or I just never delved into it that far). You can now see countries and number of hits from each, etc., no personal info of course (though no doubt big budget marketers have that capability). Kinda cool to look at periodically I suppose.
Anyway, I saw my hit counter and my eyes did a double take. The number was about 6K more than my hit counter showed. I updated it to reflect the Blogger stat, of course they're correct. I've been meaning to check into it, because my hit counter sends a weekly update and each day is listed as having 0 visits, which of course I knew was wrong based on email/facebook comments and live/phone discussions.
So...my next project is to search for a reliable hit counter that won't send a barrage of spam and email. Coolness factor is optional but of course preferred. :)
I drove G for his 1st official day so that I could be sure that he’s settled in, to meet his parapro…and yes, photos opps.
On the way into school G said, “Uh-oh, you forgot my bus tag!”
I moaned, “Oh no! Well I can pick you up after school.”
He said, “No, I know what bus I’m on, it’s bus __.”
“Really? Well, I‘ll ask your teacher to be sure.”
I confessed to his teacher that G discovered that I forgot his bus tag. She assured me that she has a list and he will make it on the right bus. I must have asked her 5 times, “Are you sure, I can pick him up, no problem!” I saw a stack of forms on her desk and realized that I forgot to bring his form. His teacher joked, “G will probably help remind you to send it tomorrow.” I’m so glad she’s seen me/knew me when I had it together, knew which end was up. I was a Room Mom with my older kids for her class, and worked in her classroom often. Pre-G, getting out the door was not quite the process it is now. Eating, brushing teeth, getting dressed, learning to tie shoes, most everything was simpler. Different, not better – as Temple Grandin says.
I was thrilled upon meeting G’s Parapro to discover that she’s friendly, approachable and well-experienced. She asked if I had specific concerns (and listened!). She mentioned that she’s frequently worked with demanding students at our local special needs school. She “gets it”, a lucky break. This makes a world of difference to me. During the difficult negotiations to obtain an aide for G, the school admin stressed repeatedly that the “Parent Aide” would not be a ParaPro, it would be a parent with some ASD training. I pictured a babysitting-type scenario. G’s aide called herself a “Sub ParaPro”, a much better, more professional fit to ease/facilitate G’s transition into NT environment and keep him safe. Such a weight off my mind. I look forward to hearing how he does and discussing his needs and progress further.
I got G going with an activity, then let her come in as I backed off. I slunk around the classroom taking photos of G - no need for slinking – he never looked up at me. I reluctantly pulled myself away. Outside his classroom, tears burned my eyes. I sniffled, put on a brave face and went into the office to make some arrangements for my volunteer work. G’s principal came in and asked me how I was doing. I tried not to look at her face. I swallowed, choked and blurted, “I’m-ok-but-I’m-trying-to hold-it-together-and-I-better-not-talk-about-it–or-I’ll-cry–again-but-thank-you-I-can’t-look-at-you.”
She laughed and quipped, “ Ok, I think you’re set on the caffeine!”
Thank you dear lady, for making me laugh! I think she’s been through this a few thousand times…including twice before with me.
I finished my business and peeked back into the classroom window to be sure G was coping. No worries – he was in his own world, working on a puzzle contentedly, while a few other children cried big crocodile tears, scared of the big changes and pitifully missing Home/Family/Furry Creatures.
I remember how proud I was when I dropped off my older children in this same classroom. I knew that I’d done my job by preparing my kiddos for independence, giving them confidence and getting them revved up about how fun and cool school and learning would be for them. This is the one child that I wish upon wish would cry and feel sad that I’m leaving…
Cry for Mom, MISS ME, sweet G!
How selfish is that!?!
…I can’t be certain he’d ever notice if I was suddenly gone. That’s not dramatizing, that’s reality. This thought causes me great distress, followed by tremendous guilt for being selfish enough to think that way. He posed and blew kisses on command for a photo -that’s more than many ASD Moms can hope for.
In the end, it is what it is. Our family could have it so much worse, as many do. We appreciate our blessings, feel privileged to have him in our lives. He means the world to our family, he teaches us in infinite ways. I know that he loves me in the here and now. I’m fortunate that he allows affection. He makes us laugh daily with his quirks and silliness. We’re doing the best we can to teach him life skills, social skills, family, friends, LOVE.
I have enough sentimentality, fear and tears for both of us, sweet G. Best of luck on your journey into real-world Neuro-Typical (NT) school. May you succeed in kindergarten. As one of his heroes says, “To infinity and beyond!”
I feel fairly confident that G’s in safe care at school. I don’t feel like I have to post myself out in the parking lot for G-surveillance to be certain he doesn’t bolt out the door; head for the hills, the highway, the lake, the train, the garbage truck, the fire truck. Not to say that I relaxed for a moment this afternoon. I considered plans for my first official freedom of the school year. I tossed around ideas to go shopping, call friends, watch a favorite DVR-ed show, clean the house (considered for all of about 3 seconds – duh – no therapy value there today, unless I cry into a sponge). Instead…well, you see what I did instead.
Writing + Coke Zero
+ I treated myself
to a tiny chocolate
(ok 3 -shhhh) = my therapies of choice
Incidentally, I checked his forgotten bus tag when I got home. Sure enough, he’s on bus __, just like he told me. Thanks for keeping me on track, smart boy…somebody has to!
G was invited to play at a (NT) friend’s house after their meet & greet morning in kindergarten class this morning. His buddy wanted to ride in our car with G, so I listened with curiosity to hear what they’d talk about after meeting so many kids and getting acquainted with their teacher and classroom. As we buckled up I asked, “How did you like your first day? Did you see lots of kids you know? What toy did you like best?” They both gave short one word answers. The boys then got engrossed in G’s cars and small toy assortment littering my mamavan floor.
Despite everyone’s efforts to de-clutter family taxi, we NEED objets d’art (the finest art - of distraction!) for G. I’ve tried many organization methods, but nothing really works well. (feel free to share inexpensive ideas). When my other 2 kids were younger, we had a wonderful system. But G’s a different kid and I’m way more harried. I usually help him pack a backpack with small items/books to keep in the car and change about once a week to keep his interest. But G never seems to put all of them back – he hides them behind/under his seat or in cupholders. But hey, who am I kidding, the toys are really for us. Anything that keeps him busy and happy or distracts him when upset is good for the other passengers. Lord help us the day his ailing, thrice cracked ipod touch finally bites the dust. A piercing wail will be heard in several counties (me), and who knows how G will react. The loss of a power cord/charger - or worse, his iTouch - is declared a family emergency. But, I digress. Soooooo…
K asks G, “What’s that thing?” So I peeked in my rear mirror. G had a Bath and Body Works Peace Sign ScentPortable that we keep clipped in the back seat. G, in his teacher voice…
“This is for when someone FARTS. You hold it up to your nose and smell - real quick…like this,” he explained, demonstrating dramatically.
“Here, you try it now,” as G waved it around K’s nose.
“Oh.” K replied. Conversation over.
I prepared to be mortified if G decided to fully demonstrate their fresh effectiveness by “ripping one”, in the charming terminology used by my 12 year old. I’m relieved to tell he didn’t. The moment passed and they went back to zooming the cars around.
1st day of school haircut! Watching the stylist, I can't imagine how I ever cut G's hair, and N's before him. How to chase a moving target with clippers and scissors....Yikes!!!
When she finished, G casted off the vinyl cape with great finesse.
Me: "Wow G, you look so handsome!"
G, matter of fact: "I know that."
The kid tells it as he sees it. No worries about self esteem!
After a fun filled day with friends and family at an annual party, we relaxed around a beautiful bonfire. Only moments before, G had been zipping around, revving up into his active nighttime mode. Now he cuddled up next to his Dad and looked to be on the edge of snoozing, mesmerized by the fire.
He broke out of his trance for a minute to ask, "Mom, do the sparks turn into fireflies?"
Seeing Ezra
A Mother's Story of Autism, Unconditional Love and the Meaning of Normal
by Kerry Cohen
Autism Mother Follows Her Heart
Honest, real, tenacious. I feel the raw emotion, worry and frustration plucked straight out of my soul and heart and onto the pages. Autism's rippling effect of disability dis-ables every aspect of family life. Motherhood: protect, serve, anticipate, support, love, research, counsel EVERYONE surrounding the child. Right now, right now, right NOW. Feel guilty for needing, frustrated for wanting, desperate for hope.
Absolutely loved it! Cohen's story and writing resonates to my core.
Different + difficult = Diffra-cult
Love these combo quirkwords G makes.
Yes, of course I correct him and model proper speech, but I still get a giggle.
I struggled to round up G to get in the car, near the end of my patience after a 20 minute “let’s-get-ready-and-out-the-door” scramble. I spotted him squatted down in the driveway and hurried over to get him moving. “Look what I found! A illegal feather!!!”, G squealed happily as he jumped up and waved his treasure.
Poor G has a yucky virus. Nothing worse than a summer cold. He started antibiotics and had a day of feeling much better yesterday, but is all clogged up again today. “When I lay down, more boogers come into my nose.”
I love that simple “body aware” observation, and that he communicated it so well. He’s becoming more in tune with his body’s feelings and expressing them more frequently.
G’s in touch with his inner boogers! How Oprah.
Go G, booger down!
In case you wonder the same thing (like I did), here’s a simple explanation:
Gravity
CT scan of sinus cavities
Sinuses are small airbags, found in the bones of the face. When they cannot drain properly, it is very difficult to breath through your nose. This problem can worsen at night when you lay down. Gravity plays a role in sinus drainage. While in a lying position, the sinuses may drain down the back of your throat, causing irritation. If you lay on one side or the other, the sinuses will drain to that side, making it difficult to breathe through the nose.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. Henri Nouwen
When a friend is in trouble, don't annoy him by asking if there is anything you can do. Think up something appropriate and do it. Edward W. Howe
Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down. Oprah Winfrey
I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world. Thomas A. Edison
It's the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter. Marlene Dietrich
It is not so much our friends' help that helps us, as the confidence of their help. Epicurus
A hug is like a boomerang - you get it back right away. Bil Keane
Thank you dearest friends, for being there when I need you. I have a difficult time seeking out help. I believe that the biggest misconception is that someone has the ability to reach out when they are deeply troubled. Often it’s this point at which we are most isolated. We wonder who will understand our troubles. My close friends know my incredible strength, know that when I ask for help it must be very very painful. The smallest of gestures can make the difference between despair and hope.
Blessings to you - my family of friends - who came to my side without question or judgment. You are held close to my heart.
Your support means the world to me. YOU mean the world to me. I hope that I may return our beautiful friendship boomerang in YOUR hour of need.
Every once in awhile I get caught up in ridiculous “normalism”. That is, thinking in a logical manner or insisting upon something that simply DOES NOT MATTER. I think my brain can only handle so much random, chaos, unknown and “isms” until I crack and hyper-focus on silly mundane points.
My daughter bought a Happy Napper with her allowance money yesterday during our girl’s night out shopping (love to bond with my darling daughter, easy-brightly-smiling-tween and loads of fun). She’s in the funny stage of being too old for some things, yet not for others. I’m thinking these are ok because they’re useful? Who knows. Some of her friends still play with Barbies, so I’m ok with a pillow. I’m in no rush for heels and makeup. So, M picked the pink LadyBug, which she called LoveBug. Later at bedtime I asked her if she’d named it yet, and we set about suggesting names and voting. She decided Lulu the LoveBug was best. Cute!
G had gotten one about a month ago, after begging for one for a couple months. He wore me down (and I must admit they’re cute). See G happily sticking his tongue out like his doggie Happy Napper in the shopping cart after Tae Kwon Do. He tried to slide the gold lion in – hmmm - it mysteriously disappeared. I forget what he named his then, if at all, it was fleeting. He’s not big into personalizing stuffed animals or humanizing (friending) behaviors. Anyway, I asked him what his doggie was named. He said, “LoveBook” (must be what he thought we were saying with M’s "LoveBug”). Picture scrunched brows and quizzical expressions on our faces. I told him that it sounded just like M’s name, and he should make his a different name. He protested, screeched and flapped. But M and I persisted. We kept up with funny suggestions (Herbert, Sailboat, Jaws, Easter Bunny, Shaggy and the like) until he calmed down, laughed and got involved in our discussion. He chose one after we got into more serious “normal” names (we wore him down, lol). His doggie’s name was officially “Spot”. I know, totally unoriginal - but more socially acceptable in my mind than LoveBook (sounds a bit naughty, ewwww). So Spot he was…
…But G showed me up as usual. Silly Mama!
Today I asked them to tell Daddy their Happy Napper names. G exclaimed, “Spotted!"
Hilarious! He puts his G stamp on it always. Gotta love it. This is sure to fall into the ranks of familyisms, those events or terms that aren’t truly understandable or funny until you get the “backstory”.
Spotted he is, dearest G!
If you’re not familiar with Happy Nappers, you must not watch kid’s tv. It’s on every commercial break, I think. The song pops into my head at random times: gas station, bottle returns, mowing lawn. I need a life.
I tripped over a thrown throw rug (moved to vacuum), and bashed my toe smack(!) into the corner of a kitchen cabinet. I howled quite a bit, and iced it for 5 minutes, then got back to business. As I walked around the library later I felt foolish for limping. What a baby, I thought. I cooked dinner with a minimum of steps in the kitchen, still babying my toe. At the dinner table I slid off my shoes. As I turned to get out of my chair, I noticed my swollen, bruised baby toe. We made a big deal out of how puffy and purple it was and everyone came to see the spectacle of the ugly overblown digit. No wonder I was limping and in pain, I exclaimed.
Later as I went upstairs to supervise evening shower and pajama routine, I noticed my toe had turned much darker, actually black. I saw G and said, “Look G, my toe is getting really dark. Look at my bruise!”
G looked at my toe, and quick as lightning, stomped on it, and turned to run into the bathroom. What? It was so quick I wondered for a split second if it really happened. My brain rushed to take in all the information: serious expression, not playful. Not scared, he’d seen it earlier. Not mad, he was in great spirits.
Simultaneously, I yelped very loudly, as you can imagine.
G’s reaction was just as surreal as his action. He ran to the stair top to yell, “It’s ok, I jumped on Mom’s toe. It’s my fault. It’s ok, everyone!” Our stairs are in the middle of our 2 story entryway, and we frequently yell out from there to someone on the 1st floor. We were all on the 2nd floor, which he knew. There was no reason to yell there because we were all within earshot of my LOUD cries.
I asked G, exasperated and frustrated, “Why did you do that? What made you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
Neither do I. How to figure this one out? How to not worry that he might do that to someone else some day. How to figure out how to explain it when he clearly did it as an impulse reaction. I’ll revisit it, try to work it into a learning experience of how to be gentle and loving when someone is hurt, which of course he already knows and practices. What made this scenario different?
I’m baffled. Some actions and behaviors are not going to fit into a neat box. Try as I may, logic and predictability often do not dictate G’s behavior or instincts. They can’t be explained. I must give it up, quash my curiosity and use that energy towards preventing it from happening again. My sweet G would not hurt a thing intentionally.
I’d so love a G user manual, preferably one that includes social stories for G’s triple-cracked, always-on-broken-power-switch itouch (I don’t know how it’s working, a true miracle!). With full body armor and Motrin for me. An aide, housekeeper, laundress and masseuse would work quite nicely too. I’ll cook, mama-taxi, give G play therapy. Oops- now I’m in la-la land. Dreams are free!
I’ll settle for assurance that he won’t do this to anyone else, never hurt anyone. Remotely.
On the plus side, purple is my most favorite color. I didn’t take photos, but after our little incident, my toe took on a horribly dark eggplant hue and a red circle formed at the base of the toe. I got an exam/xray to check if it was shattered. It’s fine, just a simple break. This photo is 2 days after, still wearing flip flops, no limping. Too late, I ‘d already finished, G wanted me to wear purple nail polish because it would look “very beautiful with my purple toe”.
My 12 year old N took a big wipeout on his bike yesterday, I didn't even know about it for 10 minutes. I iced it when we got home, but it still looked horrible hours later when I checked it while he was sleeping, 2 huge scrapes and a large bump on his tender calf.
Today he wiped out on blacktop while we were at PEAC for G's final summer bike program. He was acting quick to avoid hitting G who cut him off, and wiped out himself. Nice big bro! About halfway to getting him cleaned up and bandaged, it occurred to me...
He didn't cry. My little boy (always a baby to mama!) is too grown up to cry anymore. It kinda makes me sad.
Thankfully he's not too old to hug, or tickle. In fact, the most delightful sound ever is his giggle when he's tickled. It sounds identical to when he was an itty bitty baby. I can't hear it without giggling myself. I hope he keeps his giggle.
Whatever did we do for entertainment before this real-time, real-people reality showplace at our fingertips, at our whim? I gain so much support, inspiration and information from my Perky “All in a Day’s Quirks” profile community. Autism parenting can be incredibly isolating. Sharing and caring have helped me through the toughest times of my life.
My personal “P” profile allows me to stay connected with friends and family and keep a foot planted in a parallel reality. My BA (Before Autism) “P” facebook community knew me before my jumpy-worried-stressed-overly-serious-exhausted-frustrated demeanor of late.
Who needs reality tv? You gotta love a place where you can escape to get "poked" by your:
7th grade son’s ex-girlfriend’s mom
melancholy boss from a college internship
a sarcastic cat, like her marvelous mama
haute hairdresser I wish I could afford
first heartbreak - no worries, I’m over it
neighbor that you only see on facebook
smooth sultry singer cousin/soul sista
adoption social worker whom I adore
college prof who made all the girls swoon -though I was dutifully focused on sketches
grade school BFF (and entire family)
crazy cartoonist
daughter’s favorite coach
Player who’s “Facebook Official” relationships are too numerous to count
wickedly rude goad monster who plays victim in love relationships
Mafioso wise-guy, no photos please
classic car connoisseur with a fierce Napoleon complex
aunt’s conservative cleaning lady
geographically-challenged Mensa Man
proud parent of piercing/tattoo artist extraordinaire
playgroup-mom-turned-swinger, TMI!
stalker-esque person you block from everything but are afraid to unfriend (Thank goodness for privacy settings!)
3rd cousin twice-removed’s realtor niece
Home party mompreneur who posted 50x/day until you blocked her, sorry
Uber-judgemental fundamentalist with up-to-the-minute hateful diatribes
G’s OT goddess from 3 years ago but isn’t covered by new crap insurance
a brilliant gazillionaire
famously talented socially inept plumber
decades-ago "friend with benefits"
a happy horse
Autism Warriors soulmates who light up facebook in the wee hours.
Truth: I enjoy each and every member of my personal facebook community of friends for their encouragement, laughs and wisdom they share - or strictly entertainment value. Know-it-all-Nesbit, Debbie Downer, Wild Wayne, Pretty Profile Pix Pam, Information Ike, Sharyl Share-it-all, Defacedbook Don, Political Paul, Regina Rant, Laurie Links, Best Blog Benny, Inspiration Isa or my besties – you rock my facebook world!
Small Print:
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, creatures or facebook friends, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Mostly. You know who you are…shhhhhh.
I loaded up the compost pile with debris from pruning and trimming the garden. As I went to grab the last 2 stalks from our yucca plants, G protested,
“No! I want to save those!”
“Why, what are you going to do with them?” I asked, incredulously.
“Well, I’ll take them for a walk, then play a game with them. After that I’ll take them swimming, then maybe for another walk…”
Oh dear. This after a fun family day and playdate with a friend from school. Just when I think his social skills are improving, he makes friends with a dead plant. Just gotta laugh.
Yucca-yucca-yucca. I couldn’t resist.
Love it! Welcome to my new segment. Do you have a daily-ism to share? Share it!
G's been in love with muscle cars for the last few months. Car rides have gotten a bit more interesting since he's expanded his interests beyond Garbage Trucks.
G: There's a Garage Challenger!
N: It's a Dodge Challenger, not a Garage Challenger, G!
G: No! I said GOD Challenger. It was a green God Challenger with
stripes. I think it was a race car! Did you see it?
A Runner. That’s what we always called G. I used to joke that he didn’t learn to walk, he got up to run. “I’m sorry I missed __ (fill in blank),” I’d explain, “I was chasing G.” I considered naming my blog “Chasing G”. It works on many levels. Friends, family, teachers, acquaintances, therapists have all heard me say it countless times. Everyone. Everywhere. Every time.
A particularly awkward friend frequently comments with a smirk, “We all wonder why you aren’t as thin as a toothpick, because you’re always chasing G.” I simply have no words for that. Of course I agree. It must be stress hormone-related weight gain, because I do get plenty of exercise chasing G. I’ve since run from the friendship – wonder why?
Energizer bunny. G’s running was the 1st sign that something was amiss. We have a bit of ADHD in our family history, so we were told to keep an eye on it. But pediatricians, therapists, schools, teachers, friends all brushed aside my concerns with a blanket dismissal, “All toddlers are active.” But everywhere we took him we’d hear, “He’s so busy!” or “How do you keep up with him?” or “I’m glad I’m past that stage”. My neighbor used to “joke” that we needed an invisible fence with an embedded chip to “poke” G when he went out of bounds - like they do for pets. Yikes! I always respond that he’d keep going anyway. He’s that driven. Tunnel G-vision.
Curiosity. In that same vein, I often described to professionals that G’s behavior was that of a puppy discovering new place; running around from object to object, room to room checking out a new territory. But thinking back on that, he oddly never checked out PEOPLE. He’d run towards a dog, a truck, a bird, a leaf, a window, a puppet, a computer, a game, a closed door, an open door, a hallway…but not a person. Big. Red. Flag.
Houdini. G was an escape artist at 2. We installed baby latches on all cabinets in our house when G was about 9 months and crawling around. Before we even finished the project we’d done in 2 other homes for our other toddlers (we were semi-pro in the art), he’d figured out how to open them! We installed deadbolts up high to keep him from escaping, he pulled a stool from the kitchen to unlock it the next day. A local day care had to install alarms on their doors after G kept slipping out of the classroom. The owner dubbed them, “G alarms”, and uses the term with his staff to this day. We installed loud screaming alarms at home, which finally stopped him in his tracks.
Anxiety. Effect on parents/caregivers? I refer to it as being on high alert like a medic. But medic I’m not. I’m emotionally bound with love and devotion to this sweet boy. I have other responsibilities. I never, ever get a break. We worry when we’re not with our wanderers, worry in our sleep. 24/7 on high alert.
Am I alone??? Awareness Frustratingly Absent!
Isolation. Despite reading recently that 92% of autistic people wander, I never came across wandering and elopement as a symptom of autistic behavior in any of my early reading online, articles, books, talks, clinical test forms, etc. I looked, I asked, I threw up my hands. The closest I came to it was “impulsive”, and “seeming not to hear when his name is called”, or “always busy”. Where in all of this literature was this peculiar, dangerous and extremely stressful behavior? I finally learned via Facebook of all places. I read a book by Laura Schumaker, author of A Regular Guy: Growing Up With Autism who described her son’s elopement tendencies. I felt vindicated at last – another mother who understood my terror. It was also on Facebook that I learned of Sheila Medlam’s son Mason who drowned across the street from her home. He was 5 like my G. Then came the big news story of Nadia Bloom, who wandered away and was found after 3 days in a Florida swamp. After these national news stories, more media attention was given to autism elopement. I began to notice an increase in information about wandering, location devices for autism elopement, and other news stories of children who’ve come into danger or died from wandering accidents.
Awareness. I was invited and was instantly moved to take the IAN survey on wandering. I was amazed at the story the survey questions told. Obviously other parents were concerned about the exact behaviors that I was, or the questions wouldn’t be included in this carefully formulated research study. I rejoiced in the fact that I wasn’t alone. That may sound a bit twisted - I certainly don’t wish this upon anyone - but I was truly relieved that I wasn’t dealing with an anomaly. Elopement is a common symptom of autism; but not widely known, documented or discussed. I decided that I needed to help raise awareness in any small way. I answered the survey frankly, with details. The IAN Project survey has helped advocates to get Wandering a diagnostic code for physicians and health care. What a boon! If 1 other parent, doctor or caregiver realizes the dangers, makes the connection, or takes safety measures because of this important milestone, it will make a difference. Let’s help head off tragedy, prevent grief.
Save lives. Save families.
Safety First. For the sake of G, we’ve had to make difficult decisions. Each year we join a group of old friends for a family weekend at a Lake Huron cottage. Because the cottage is across a busy 2 lane highway from the beach, my husband and I take turns alternate years staying home with G for the weekend while the other takes the older 2 children. It tears me up inside to deprive him of an experience which I know he’ll enjoy, a tradition that will shape his childhood as it has my other 2 children. But it’s smartest for his safety and our stress level. Recently we had to pull G out of an inclusion program he’d looked forward to for months because security measures were loose, despite our repeated pleas to staff about G’s safety needs. We’ve made the decision not to go to sensory overload spiking events like amusement parks or water parks with G until/if he stops running. Even when we split up and a parent is 1:1 with G, he takes off and gets lost in an instant. All 5 of us have a difficult time rounding him up when he gets plugged in. We can’t take chances with our kiddos’ safety. Why tempt disaster?
G gives no warnings, he’s just gone without a look backwards. No words, sign language, visual cues, signs or rules stop him. Social stories work logically and with repetition, but evaporate into thin air when he’s intrigued by a distraction.
It takes a village. For months this year I fought vehemently with district administration to employ an aide for G to help him transition into kindergarten. I’m thrilled that the school staff is on board and flexible. G’s kindergarten teacher asked for a book so that she could read up on autism to enable her to understand and work with him better – amazing support! Preparation, guidelines and communication with caregivers is key.
My Autism Wandering Prevention Safety Tips:
I dress G in bright bold - often patterned shirts to help us locate him in a crowd
Dress all family members in the same color/type clothing or accessory when visiting a crowded venue. Try to think of child’s height/visibility – wear matching flip flops, tie bright yarn on belt loops, carry identical water bottle, etc. This helps the entire family locate each other.
Take a digital photo of child upon arrival at a crowded event. This helps others recall your lost child or to help spot them.
Split up with others, ask for help searching for your child
Prep on the way to an event by going over safety rules: #1 is always tell caregiver if you want to go somewhere (good luck with that)
Give the child a venue map or create a scavenger hunt or shopping list to keep their focus
Try to pair up wanderer with a buddy
Upon arriving at an event, set up a safety spot (sensory free, if possible) to meet if anyone gets lost. When overloaded at school, G often flees to an empty commons area and sits in a window looking outside (see above photo). Running is self preservation, pure and simple instinct. These kids are pretty smart when it comes to knowing what they need and what to avoid. It’s when we get in their way to make them conform that brings on meltdowns. Hence the term, “flight or fight”. Imagine being miserably sick with the stomach flu in a room full of screaming babies – you’d run quick or push your way out!
Label clothing, make sure child knows their name, parent name, address and phone #.
After leaving G’s “Bike Camp”, PEAC’s at-your-own-pace bike riding/safety summer course, I had a quick errand to run. While driving through downtown Ann Arbor, MI, I suddenly slammed on my brakes, alerting G out of his itouch reverie.
G, “Whoa, what happened?”
I explained to him that a Scooter Bike from oncoming traffic had pulled right in front of me to make a left turn. Then she made a face and yelled something at me.
“What was she thinking?!? If I had not stopped, we would’ve hit her!” I finished. "She needs a bike safety course!"
G in an amazed voice, “Are we in New York?” Love the randomism, another one that has me shaking my head, wondering where that connection came from...maybe a movie?
Perky’s Daily Quirk (PDQ)
G wanted to show his PEAC "Bike Camp" teacher his craft from “PBS” (VBS, Vacation Bible School)…
"Do you think he'll like my 'fish flops' glasses?"
He did so well today, he's getting a bit ahead of himself, maybe the sharp shades lend him confidence. It’s all about looking cool, lol.
He tried starting himself, and did. But as always, when he falls/fails, he takes a few steps back. His instructor quickly got him back on track and instead had him work on turns with an obstacle course today. PEAC has magic crumple cones that bounce right back into shape. Brilliant!
I adore his intense concentration. Go G!
Love it! Welcome to my new segment. Do you have a daily-ism to share? Share it!
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I forget what he named his then, if at all, it was fleeting. He’s not big into personalizing stuffed animals or humanizing (friending) behaviors. Anyway, I asked him what his doggie was named. He said, “LoveBook” (must be what he thought we were saying with M’s "LoveBug”). Picture scrunched brows and quizzical expressions on our faces. I told him that it sounded just like M’s name, and he should make his a different name. He protested, screeched and flapped. But M and I persisted. We kept up with funny suggestions (Herbert, Sailboat, Jaws, Easter Bunny, Shaggy and the like) until he calmed down, laughed and got involved in our discussion. He chose one after we got into more serious “normal” names (we wore him down, lol). His doggie’s name was officially “Spot”. I know, totally unoriginal - but more socially acceptable in my mind than LoveBook (sounds a bit naughty, ewwww). So Spot he was…
Dreams are free!
Mostly. You know who you are…shhhhhh.
I couldn’t resist.
It’s all about looking cool, lol. 
