Eve's First Movie Theater Experience

When my children are old enough to go to the BIG theater to see a movie, it's difficult to put into words what a huge rite of passage this is for them. Essentially I am telling the world that I am ready to truly bring them into the public light. That maybe they won't bounce from seat to seat for 2 hours straight. And maybe they won't point out the girth of a pregnant woman who... oopsie daisy... wasn't pregnant after all.

When Dan and I recognize that our child MIGHT be able to sit through an entire movie, there's no question: We always start them off at the discount theater. The reasons for this are numerous, but it mostly comes down to: "IF our child started howling like a hyena in the middle of a film and we had to leave, how much dough would we lose?" Followed closely by, "IF our child spilled an entire soda or scattered 6 ounces of Skittles merrily down the slanted floor of the theater, WHICH venue has the creepiest, stickiest floor?"

For Eve's first theater experience, we took her to see "The Croods."

We went to the movie theater to see a movie, but most of my entertainment was found in the wide eyes of my 4 year old.

We walked into the theater and gave our tickets to the gentleman taking them. "This is her first movie in the theater," I explained. Eve blushed a grin and hurriedly grabbed her ticket stub. We arrived at the theater a full 30 minutes early because, well, it's the "cheap" theater so you never know how full it will get and it was a rainy-ish day. Plus, Dan is religious about getting good seats.

A word about Dan: Dan was probably expecting a more serene movie experience.
He was probably expecting to sit in the aisle seat.
And to have Eve sit quietly next to him.
And to not have Eve get up and need to leave the theater three times before the movie started.

I, on the other hand, was expecting complete chaos.
So when Eve dropped her entire bucket of popcorn on the floor immediately upon sitting at our seats, I wasn't surprised.
And when she began to dance on the fallen popcorn pieces, I was just glad that I didn't have to clean it up.
And when she was frightened by the scary parts of the movie and began kicking the seat in front of her repeatedly, I understood.

When we found our seats, Eve promptly asked for popcorn.
Did we NEED popcorn? No. Three bags of candy were plenty.
But wait... we NEEDED popcorn because, well, we were teaching her about culture. We HAD to teach her the proper junk food to eat while watching animation on the big screen and to teach her the right ratio of sugary candy to salty popcorn. It was a necessary evil.

All those days of saying "No dessert before dinner" and "Let's find a healthy snack" were meant to build up their immune system so that on THESE occasions we could throw the rule book out the window and say, "How about POPCORN with GUMMY WORMS and M&MS?" and watch their eyes twitch as they contemplated if the question was a trick.

As parents it's immensely important to make rules so that when you teach your children to break them they'll have fun.

If you're an offended health nut, take heart: Eve's continuous bouncing on the retractable theater seats burned 473 calories. I counted.

By the way, I know it's considered wrong, but we smuggle candy into theaters. It goes against every fiber of my being to pay $5.00 for twenty Junior Mints. I just won't do it. I refuse. I'll buy the overpriced popcorn, but not the candy. And until they institute a theater "pat down" for rule breaking ticket holders, I intend to continue this tradition and teach it to my children.

For friends of mine who would prefer to have a review of the movie "The Croods," here's what I can tell you: If you like Pixar movies, you'll dig this. If you prefer the more demure and old fashioned "Snow White" flicks, then you should pass on this or go back in time and live in the 1950s.

This whole experience wasn't really about the movie anyway. It was about Eve, growing up, having fun and being a big girl.

I was not disappointed.

Language Lessons

A little fictional writing exercise I did to convey the way I feel about autism and learning about Eve.

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I am on an island. It's a beautiful island. It has two residents. Me and Eve.

On this island, I need to communicate to her that I have some food for her. But whenever I speak, she doesn't understand my words and she bawks. She screams. She runs.

When I see a storm coming, I warn her of the darkness and rain. She bawks more. She squawks like a parrot.

In fact, everything I do causes her to scream "no" and bawk and cry.

One day a lone boat comes and a single person is on the boat. The person on the boat tells me that they have the answer to communicating better with Eve. They tell me that all I have to do is talk backwards.

"You mean," I clarify, "If I want her to eat food I call it 'doof' instead."

The person smiles. "Actually, if you want her to 'eat food,' you'll tell her to 'doof tea.' All your sentences and words need to be completely backwards."

For days I sit in frustration and continue my own way of communication with her, but it's not working. I call for help, but there are only insurance monkeys and labrador pediatricians on the island. No one speaks in words I understand.

When I see my daughter crying for an hour because she wants to wear plaid shorts and not pink ones, I finally tell myself that the stranger from the boat might be right.

I sit on the beach. With my finger in the sand, I begin writing sentences and then translating them backwards.

Love you.
Uoy evol.

Please come.
Emoc esaelp.

I try the phrases out on my daughter. My daughter is calmer. She's responding well. She comes when I call her. Sometimes she skips and does a little dance before she comes, but she comes without bawking, without crying.

The language before me is not one I know, but I will learn it because I love her and I want to connect with her. And because one day, we may be able to get off this island.

Epoh i.