In an earlier post, I talked a little about the prevalence of anxiety in my family as a whole, as well as its specific manifestation in my son. A lot of the time, even a transition to something that should be easy (We get to go home, yay!) is hard. My parents tell an amusing story about my brother, crying in the back seat of our car when he was about 5, repeating through his sobs, "I don't want to go to my lovely, lovely home." My son is a lot like that. One time we went to my parents' condo and played for most of the day because of a snow day. He eventually got bored of everything but also got upset with me for trying to get him home. He started doing one of his favorite stims, running from one end of the house and bumping into me, which I usually try to stop before he gets out of control. This time I opted for tickling as my method of intervention. He loved it, thought it was hilarious, and laughed so hard that he peed himself.
After that, it was a while before we had to go home. I'd like to say I learned my lesson, but I did it again a week later. That time he peed on me, too. Bath time for everyone! I'm awesome at this autism parenting thing.