Owen isn’t terrified of water, but he certainly does not care for it. Noah on the other hand could live in the water, fortunately he never grew scales or fins, that would just add to his already complex medical problems. The dislike Owen has for the water is equal to our dislike for eating out as a family. Amy and I love to eat out, but as a family we just can’t do it. Noah’s impulse control problems present themselves at restaurants in the form of throwing food as soon as it is in his grasp and the fellow diners end up wondering why bits of melon are raining down from the sky. The cackling, screaming, too-loud-for-a-restaurant-setting three year old in the booth next to them quickly answers that question. So, with a five year old who doesn’t like water and a three year old who can’t eat out, we decided to go to a water park in Centralia, Washington. Great Wolf Lodge, home of four restaurants, a wave pool, water slides, and a 1,000 gallon bucket of water. What could go wrong?
Nothing, nothing at all. It was a brilliantly calm pause in an incredibly hectic past few months. Weeks ago we wondered what was next for Noah, and here we were, playing in the wave pool as a family, having the time of our life. O was hesitant at first, it took him a while to scope the place out and become comfortable around the water and that was certainly expected. His rapid acclimation however stunned myself and Aimes. Within twenty minutes he was climbing all over the water house (featuring various water cannons to aim at the swimmers below), heading for the water slide, and splashing in the wave pool. In fact, the roles were reversed, Noah seemed to be the overly cautious fellow. Noah sat in Mama’s lap nearly the entire first day, gently patting the water. I suspect this had more to do with the crowds of people and noise and less to do with the water.
After our first day of play, we returned to the room where we pretended none of us had spent the past three hours in giant pools full of children who knew, I’m sure, that it really is best to “hold it” and use the restroom. But I too was little boy at one time, and I too remember the freedom that comes with public pools….Ahem…moving on.
Our return to our room brought with it a well chlorinated family and after a quick wash up we decided to head to dinner. A public dinner. In a restaurant. Noah has never had a time where he wasn’t throwing food or trying to “booth jump” to the patrons behind us. What could go wrong?
Nothing, nothing at all. While Noah preferred to stand instead of sit, he kept his food on the table and was on his best manners. Amy and I were both fairly tense, how would we explain it to the other families? How would we deal with stares? What would the waitress think? Ultimately deciding: Who cares? After sitting down and getting ready to tell the waitress that we had a special needs child and anything she could do to speed it up would great, Noah decided for perhaps the first time, he was going to enjoy this. He ate a little, not a lot, but it all ended up right in his belly and not on the floor. I felt like we needed a standing ovation when we were done, but instead we settled for some cookies and chocolate dipped strawberries.
Being the parent of a special needs child means living a life that the majority of people don’t relate to and we certainly wouldn’t expect people to identify with it. For lack of a better word, it is just complex. There are doctor appointments, therapy appointments, behavioral issues and in Noah’s case you add to that impulse control problems and seizures. Much like someone in a wheelchair must think from time to time of people walking around “you just don’t know what you have,” Amy and I have thought from time to time when we see families at restaurants “you just don’t know what you have.” It is the smallest things we tend to take for granted. With time though you adapt, you take chances like we did at Great Wolf Lodge, and sometimes, you hit a home run. The water is bravely and joyously embraced. Food goes in the belly and not the floor. Being a parent requires you to adapt, being a parent of a special needs parent requires taking a chance. What could go wrong?
Nothing, nothing at all.
Best,
G
