Escape Artist

A Real Worry

Over the years, there have been many things Mateo has done that brought me to the brink of a heart attack. Actions that I swear will give me grey hair. But one recurring worry/action is wandering. According to a 2012 study in Pediatrics, approximately 49 percent of children on the autism spectrum have a tendency to wander or bolt from safe settings. And since our children have little or no sense of danger, drowning is the leading cause of death in our kids, followed by traffic accidents, followed by dehydration, heat strokes, hypothermia, and falls. This is a very real concern.

Mateo Without Me?

Think about it. My son is nonverbal. He can say his first name, but beyond that he can’t tell you where he lives, who his momma is, what is his phone number. He could probably show you HOW to get to his house, but would he? And would a stranger even understand? I’ve been working with him on walking on sidewalks and watching for traffic for two years. He does NOW stick mainly to the side of the road/sidewalk, but still he doesn’t seem to pay much attention to cars.

He knows how to swim and he respects the water, but I still worry that he might jump into a canal where crocs are a real possibility in Belize. He is now better about wearing clothes (he has fabric sensitivities and basically just prefers to be naked), but he still hates keeping shoes on and no way can I get him to wear any sort of medical alert bracelet. He will yank at it until he bleeds and gnaw it off he has to! These days with COVID-19, yeah sorry Mr. Peyrefitte, but in no way, shape or form will I get Mateo to wear a mask. He won’t wear a hat or shades and I’m just glad he doesn’t strip in public (much) these days. So something covering his mouth and nose? That would be akin to water-boarding for my guy.

To make matters worse, Mateo can climb like a monkey. He has feet like a gecko (doesn’t slip even on the mossiest of grounds). And his balance? Well, he can probably put a tight-rope walker to shame. Not to mention, he might not be able to write his name legibly, but he sure can figure out how to open locks.

A Monkey at 4!

The summer Mateo was 4 years old, we went to California for a wedding. After a wonderful day by my cousin’s pool, we decided to go out to grab food. Everyone went inside to get ready. I stayed with Teo and packed a bag to take with us of stuff to keep him occupied and snacks in case he wouldn’t eat anything on the menu. Once everyone was dressed, I ran upstairs to quickly grab my shoes and wash my face. My cousin, her husband, their two teenage sons and my husband were all downstairs with Teo. By the time I came down a couple minutes later, Mateo was missing.

Everyone said they would have heard the door chime if he had gone out the front door, but me, being skeptical and slightly hysterical, had them checking up and down the street. We thoroughly checked the backyard and pool. I completely violated my cousin’s privacy by searching her whole house- closets, under beds, her bathroom – EVERYWHERE. By the time I came out and sat on the stairs on the verge of tears, the whole neighborhood was out screaming for Mateo. Kids were out on bikes and skateboards; strangers I’ve never met were out walking and looking. My cousin, equally as freaked out, looked at me and said, “Chris, I think it’s time we call the fire department and police.” I can still remember the look on her face when she said this. She was as terrified as I was.

Right about that time, we heard a commotion. We ran outside. There he was. Happy and calm as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He never went out the front door. He climbed the 6 foot fence in the backyard to play in the neighbor’s yard. He didn’t have a scratch on him.

Not the only time…

This has happened more than a couple times over the years. Our house in Puerto Rico backed up to land protected by Homeland Security since the train passed by there. We had a cement fence that was about 13 feet tall. Somehow he would scale it and walk from our yard to one neighbor’s yard or another. I swear I think over the few years we lived in that gated community, he gave many of my neighbors a near-heart attack. It seemed like I would just run inside to go get the mail or go to the bathroom and poof! He would be gone.

Will I Never Learn!

So when I moved into our current home in Belize, I was worried about the height of the fence surrounding our house. I made sure all the doors to head outside could only be opened by a key. I even bought these alarms that would go off as you open the main doors. Over the past couple months, though, I got lulled into a false sense of security.

He never tried leaving the yard on his own. He was content to play on the swing or trampoline or in the pool. He hated the alarm over the door and since he’s now tall enough, he kept yanking it off the wall. I glued it back. I replaced it time and time again, but he’d just keep taking it down. Soon though, since he hadn’t tried to wander, I got better about letting him in the yard and just watching him from the hammock on the verandah.

Yesterday, though, he changed the whole game all over again. I had been out with him from about 5AM. I took out the trash. I put product in the pool and cleaned the filter. I sat in the hammock and watched him play as I drank my coffee. We came inside around 7AM so I could give him breakfast. Then when he went back outside, I stayed to clean up after him. Five minutes or so went by when my sister called. “You know you son is barefoot, shirtless, and is in my yard with his iPad,” she says to me.

“No. He just finished eating, put on his shorts and went outside,” I responded, as I started to rush out to look for him. “No!” She practically screams at me. “The gate is closed!” I scream back. I don’t know why I’m fighting with her at this point. While the gate is closed, she’s right, though. There’s no Teo in my yard and this sister isn’t the one who would play sick jokes on me. (Yes, Les, you know you liked to pick on me when I was younger and I will never let you forget it.)

By this time, I’m out in my yard panicking. The work men across the street are all pointing and screaming in Spanish. The neighbor’s workmen are also telling me he went on the highway. Hell. The workmen across the canal at Maheia’s United are telling me he’s over there. Let’s just say, at this point everyone is concerned. Although I haven’t lived here for even a year yet, my neighbors and construction workers in the area all sort of know Teo by now.

I quickly grab my mask and my keys and take off running. When I get to the waterfront by my sister’s house, Mateo is barefoot, shirtless and happy playing by the sea. My sister is watching him trying to get her heart to calm down. My brother-in-law is out ready to scold me. Mateo is not worried in the slightest.

I’m really glad that so many people spotted him and realized that he should NOT have been out on his own. Unfortunately, no one actually saw him leave so I’m still not sure how he got out. So once again, I recognize my backyard isn’t safe. And until I can figure out how this escape artist got out and fix that weak point, it’s not going to be safe. Sigh. It wasn’t even 8AM on a Monday morning and my stress levels were through the roof.

Some times when I’m out- at the beach or at a family gathering because, let’s be honest, besides that, I don’t really have much of a life- my family and friends will tell me to “relax”, but I always remember this quote I read at Autism Uncensored:

“An Autism Parent is ‘ready’ all the time, even when our child seems to be OK and others think we should relax. We know the unpredictability of every situation. We know that 60 seconds from now, all hell could break loose.”

So yeah, relaxing is just not THAT easy, especially when my boy is an escape artist!