Learning restraint

Yesterday, like most Sundays, was a super-full day, but a good one. After breakfast, I got Graham behind the wheel and out on the road early. We went west of Jordan Lake, down to Pittsboro, then back through Carrboro to pick up some of the walnut-raisin bread Mary likes at Weaver Street. Graham did well, but I did even better. I need to learn to sit on my hands better, to correct him when necessary but otherwise let him just get comfortable and confident behind the wheel, which isn't always easy. He still has little surprises for me, like when we were pulling in to the driveway last week after a long and successful drive and he drove off the edge of it while turning in, not far from the ditch. "What happened there?" I asked. "I saw that the flag was up and was thinking that I didn't need to come back out to get the mail, so I was distracted."

That was a bit of a surprise, given that he had been out on the interstate going 65 feeling fine and doing a whole host of other more complicated stuff. It never occurred to me that one could drive off of the driveway because of a distraction that small.

This incident is fairly emblematic of the challenges of being the dad of a kid on the autism spectrum, but the very high end of it. Mary has focused considerably on the autism part of Graham's behavior and being in the world, whereas I am focused primarily on him as a kid/boy/young man. I think about his development first and foremost by analogy with my own, because there's a lot in common for damned sure. Lots of dads are in flat out denial of their kid's special needs conditions. I don't think I'm quite there, but Mary might not always agree with that statement.

But sometimes that blinds me to the sides of him that are consistent with his diagnosis. He really does have difficulty splitting attention, so for example pulling into a driveway or both driving and monitoring his speed (often he drifts towards a slow speed, sometimes he goes too fast). So I have to keep this mind and guide him accordingly, but gently, and not excessively. Which ain't always easy.