We've been waging a battle of sorts in the Reinventing house. Jack's Big Boy Bed has been up for several weeks, but has seen relatively little use. We've tried everything, but as it is with so many things, we have to find the exact right combination of factors - bedding, lighting, and bedtime routine - to make Jack feel comfortable enough to be willing to give it a try.
We've felt a recent sense of urgency in getting Jack out of the crib. Perhaps it's due to his new medication (which seems to keep him wired) or his newfound jumping skills (he couldn't jump at this point last year), but Jack has begun to treat his crib like a personal bounce house. One day just a week or so ago, Jack accidentally flipped out of his crib and landed on the floor head first. While he gave me a mini heart attack with this stunt, it did seem to be unintentional and it shook him up quite a bit; I don't think he expected to fly out of the crib.
So, the crib needs to go in the relatively near future.
While we are trying to gently push the move into the Big Boy Bed, we do have to bear in mind one thing - our son, like so many autistic individuals, has a comfort zone that is even more vital and necessary than it is to the rest of us.
The world is a scary place to Jack. I see it in his eyes. I see his fear. Control keeps that fear at bay. If the world can be a highly regimented, highly predictable, routine-oriented kind of place, it is less frightening. When you can't control how your body processes information, when you don't fully understand the language that others all around you are speaking, and when anxiety consumes you, you too might find yourself clinging to the familiar with all that you have.
So it is with Jack.
I think that people sometimes wonder why it is so hard for Jack to master some of these transitions, like moving to a Big Boy Bed. I've wondered myself if I should just take away the security blanket - his crib - and force him to make the transition. I've wondered if I should just sit there and watch him cry when - to him - the world he knows and feels comfortable within just crashes down around him.
Here's the thing, I just can't. Call me a coward, call me a push-over, but I can't do it.
First, it's never worked in the past. Take feeding, for instance. I've heard so many people tell me to just put food in front of Jack that I want him to eat and that - eventually, when he gets hungry enough - he'll eat it. Guess what...that's never worked. Ever. My kid absolutely will starve himself. We've seen him do it. We've seen him refuse liquids because we were pushing Pediasure on him. He is not motivated by the same biologically-based drives that we are.
The same goes with sleep. Jack - like so many on the spectrum - struggles with what the rest of us would consider a "normal" sleep pattern. He is very particular about the environment and conditions in which he will sleep. He has to sleep in the same SleepSack every night. He wants nothing in his crib. He won't sleep in another bed, another room, or another house.
And it's not like we haven't tried. When Jack has thrown up in his crib - which still happens from time-to-time - we've tried to get him to come sleep with us. He won't. He'll stay awake, forcing himself to remain alert and sitting up in a sort of zombie-like state. He simply won't allow his body to concede to sleep. Eventually, in the wee hours of the morning, his crib sheets and beloved SleepSacks will be clean and we will put him back in his crib. So, when people claim that he will eventually sleep, I can say with certainty that he will not.
Knowing this, I feel that "forcing" a situation upon him with the thought that "he'll eventually sleep" will not work. As the many parents with children with sleeping issues can attest, some of our kids can function on a surprisingly small amount of sleep.
Now, that's all well and good, but here is the most important reason why I can't yank the rug out from under my child - trust. I hear from autistic adults often about how difficult it is for them to trust other people. I work so hard to not undermine the trust Jack can have for me. I never lie to him. I am always honest about what we are doing in his day and where we are going, even if it's going to be hard. I do this because I don't want him to ever have to worry that I would not be honest with him about what is going to happen.
The same goes for the Big Boy Bed. If I - one afternoon - simply remove the crib without preparing him for it, without making sure he is ready for that transition, then what does that say to him about me? Does that send the message that the things he holds dear in this world - the things that make the world make sense - are subject to removal at my whims? How is he to know what may or may not go at any given time?
As much as I wish that I could, I can't make these decisions for him. I can't decide that he's going to be ready to potty train any more than anyone else can decide that he's ready. I can't decide that he's ready for the bed. The only person who can - ultimately - determine his readiness with these tasks is him.
As painfully slow as it may be, I have to trust him to make the move when he's ready...and he will. I can encourage it along. I can make the move enticing (we bought Angry Birds sheets for the Big Boy Bed). I can try to motivate him. What I can't do is force him to be ready when he truly is not.
I think that's an important lesson many of us need to learn - that our kids will be ready when they are ready. They will not follow the same time-table as other children. Our kids won't necessarily be motivated by the same factors that get other children to make these transitions - like "wanting to be like Daddy" or wanting a Big Boy Bed like a sibling - so we have to be patient as they take their time readying themselves for the next move...a move which might be very scary for them to make. If we force it, we risk undermining the trust that is at the core of our relationships with our children.
As I tell Jack so often, I can wait a lifetime for him, and so I wait. He'll make it when he's ready, and we'll celebrate each step along the way.