TRAVEL|TAKING OFF

Taking Off Is A State Of Mind When You Can’t Travel Farther Distances

Find the joy close to home

It is a Saturday morning, and my son and I set out of the house.

He is four and a half, and we like to visit parks, indoor playgrounds, and other kid-friendly places like Petsmart, ToysRus. and McDonald’s Play Place.

Today we’re going to a new park. It’s the first week of April. A warm, sunny, typical Southern California morning. As I come to a stop sign on our street, sunlight dapples from a tree on the windshield of my blue Ford Escort.

“Dad, I want to go to McDonald’s. Can we go to McDonald’s?”

Sure, McDonald’s!

What he really means is McDonald’s Play Place. Labyrinth of tube-shaped tunnels reaching to the ceiling. Climbing and twisting slides. High-pitched squeals and shrieks. Germs and instant friendship. Every kid’s utopia except when we arrive this summer morning there are no kids in the play place.

“Where are the kids?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“It’s nine in the morning. Kids will be coming soon.”

After I reassure my son, he disappears into an entrance and, ten seconds later, reappears down a slide just as two brothers burst through the glass door like high school football players crashing through a cheerleader-made banner.

He follows them into the opening, and I sit down to enjoy one of the rarest of parent commodities: Rest! This opportunity to chat with other parents and to enjoy a coffee is one of the reasons I enjoy taking my son to McDonald’s.

Developing social skills

My son was diagnosed with autism at three and is an only child, so we come to McDonald’s not only to have fun, but also to help develop his social skills, thanks to the replenishable supply of kids.

Our trips to McDonald’s, I suppose, are my response to his autism diagnosis. I crawl on my knees through the tunnels with him, a Gulliver at six-foot-three among the Lilliputians, committed to forming a close bond with my son.

I join him in the play structure to make our visits a joint activity, but also because he sometimes fails to pick up social overtures from other kids.

He has sustained more interaction with kids in our last few visits which enables me to stay on the sidelines, and this is what I observe as I chat with a soccer mom: He pursues two girls, ten or eleven years old, one of them the soccer mom’s daughter, through the tunnels like a dog tracking a scent.

After coming down a slide, one girl says to herself, “I am sweating.” And then to my son, “Can you please stop chasing us?” A boy points his index finger with his thumb up at him, and Dominic grabs his chest and falls down.

This is a play-action I’ve never seen him do before. It’s a normal play gesture, but it’s supposedly not for a child on the autism spectrum, the experts say.

A minute later, he comes down a slide in a whoosh as part of a train of kids, all laughing and smiling, like a multicultural bobsled team. I smile. On the outside and on the inside. This may seem like an ordinary scene, but I know it is something more: My son is learning to play with other kids.

Thankful for McDonald’s

As a stay-at-home mom, my wife was the first to notice his autistic symptoms: walking on his tippy toes, watching a ceiling fan spin around, and spinning in circles. None of these seemed that unusual to me, and my reaction to her concern was not to worry. A lot of kids spin in circles, right?

We’ve heard him repeat lines from movies (known as scripting in autism jargon) and worried when he has shown little interest in playing with kids at the park and he’s obeyed the commands of his therapists 20+ hours a week.

We’ve endured a lot of stress in our marriage due to different reactions to his diagnosis. My wife being in overdrive to find services for him ane me more of a wait-and-see attitude that has come across to my wife more as denail.

So, as he comes down a slide beaming as the caboose in a five-kid train, I am thankful for McDonald’s creating this haven of instant friendship. No one else may know the significance of this moment, of my son being caught in the ebb and flow of playing with kids, but I recognize he has just made an important step in his development, that was preceded by hundreds of smaller steps.

What was it Neil Armstrong said when he walked on the moon? “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” That’s what this moment feels like to me: a huge step forward in my son’s development.

And I’m certain Dominic sensed it too. That was evident from his smile radiating kid joy as he remained in a stream of interaction with kids.

But, maybe, I am wrong, and he has been sustaining play all along: waiting for me to catch up with him inside the tunnels, playing hide-and-seek with me, and forming a father-son train with me on the slides, and now that I am observing him from a further distance, I can see the forest from the trees.

Ponder this thought

I remember this story now that my son is 14 every time I lament financial limitations to travel. Time passes by so quickly, and I want our family to have memories of travel experiences. But this trip a mile from home to McDonald’s reminds me you don’t have to travel far to have an extraordinary experience.

Taking off is a state of mind. It is just seizing small moments in life — with those you love or strangers whenever and wherever you happen to be.

It might just be watching your son have a breakthrough at McDonald’s while sipping a cup of coffee and chatting with a soccer mom.

Thanks for reading my story.

Tagging parent writers: Michael L Butler, Reuben Salsa, Nicole Dake, Bernice Puzon, Alexandra Christensen, Frank Priegue, Sally Prag, Jane Kelley, Janet Meisel, Megan Llorente, Melissa Marietta, Justin C, Sandy Maximus, The Sober Vegan Yogi, Sreese, Klara Jane Holloway, Ruby Lee, Kelly Rende, Stacey, Erica Marie, Adelina Vasile, Christina, Denise Estey Lindquist, Bridie Dillon, Athena, Sharon Johnson, Marilyn Glover, Anatta, Susan Wheelock

And the proud papa of many lovely chickens … J.R. Spiers

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