If Autism Went to the Inauguration

Well, today’s the big day. The long-awaited changing of the guard. All the drama of the train ride to the capitol, the rock stars and celebrities, the almost poetic set-up of Martin Luther King Day on the eve of this historic event…

It’s the inauguration of the man who promised to help families with autism. (Did you think I was going to say it’s historic because he’s the first president who’s part African-American? Please…that point’s been beaten to death. Time to move on to the issues.)  

Everybody who is anybody will be there…

What? You’re not going? Well, why the hell not?

Oh, we’re not going to play the “autism card”, are we?

Come on. Washington DC is only about 6 hours away from here. If we factor in the crowds, maybe its 9 hours total. Let’s all pretend we’re like regular American families today and throw the kids in the car and head off for the inauguration. We can cheer “Yes We Can” all the way there.

I can see it now…

After 9 hours in the car, the kids will be so excited to be able to get out and stretch their legs when we finally arrive in DC.  Wait a minute…is that MY boy running full speed across the White House lawn? (Gee, I’m so sorry Mr. Secret Service man. Please call off your snipers…)

Yep, I’m just gonna freshen up in my $5,000/night fancy hotel room for a moment. (That’s just a drop in the bucket for the average American family with autism, ya know.) Um, Mr. Conceirge, what do you mean the satellites are jammed and you can’t get Noggin?

Okay. Don’t panic, just let me think a minute. Food. Yes, food…that’s what we need. How about some room service?  Look, your freakin brochure said you COULD accommodate a GF/CF diet!

The swearing in should be interesting. No you can’t color in THAT book, honey…it’s Mr. Lincoln’s bible and the President won’t share.

Just think how comfortable they’ll be in a crowd of only, uh, 2 million strangers…Don’t touch that man. Its snowing, put your hat, gloves, coat and shoes back on. Don’t touch that man. Why are you covering your ears, honey? Don’t. Touch. That. Man. 

Glad I rented that little tux for the occasion. I know the tag bothers you, honey, but you really can’t go to the Inaugural Ball in your standard bare feet and underwear.

Shoot. I never get to dress up and go out. Do you think its ok if I wear the last fancy dress I bought to the Ball? Apparently not…The 90’s called. They want my dress back…

Look, I really wanted to go to the Ball. Hey, maybe I can find a sitter. There’s only 2 million people in town. Surely one of them has a Master’s in Special Ed, is trained in ABA, PT, OT, Speech, Sensory, Floortime, PECS, and has knowledge of the GF/CF diet, lives to change diapers, has lots of hugs and kisses to spare, the patience of a saint and a clean background check. Well…maybe not.

Even in a crowd of 2 million, autism would feel alone at the Inauguration.

If I want to feel alone, I can just do that every day at home. Better start unpacking the car.

Let’s hope that change really is coming…

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