Entertaining a 5-year-old boy for more than 5 minutes, who arguably has autism spectrum disorder (ASD), can be incredibly difficult to say the least. By arguably, I mean that he’s been diagnosed but I still think he’s mainly just ADHD like his mama. Apparently, symptoms of the two are very similar at this age. For the purposes of today, however; the cause is irrelevant. It is what it is and what it is, is f****** difficult. There are no toys, movies, establishments, or natural wonders in this universe that could entertain this child long enough for me to be able to just relax. The only place that this is even remotely plausible, is at home. Only because I know he can’t escape and If I need the time bad enough, will had already decided to disregard any destructive noises I may hear (e.g., glass breaking, clanging, etc.…). It’s my own shit. I don’t have to care if it gets ruined. Outside the home however, it’s a different story. He’s a runner and there is a reason why we started calling him The Hulk at 6 months; he breaks shit. Besides having ASD, he is an only child and wasn’t able to go to preschool due to covid. The poor kid is socially handicapped. He’s basically only been around us boring ass adults, and seeing as his dad and I are separated, one boring ass at a time. If you bring an additional person into the picture, the shit gets embarrassing really quick. He starts trying to show-off. This means he’s charging into people, grabbing breakables and chanting – “Glass! Glass!”; running off, you name it…. Long story short – going anywhere typically makes me want to cry or beat the poor kid (or both): it’s stressful.
A Little Context for You
This is my first and only kid. I have not been around many kids, my mom died before I had my son, and the in-laws hated me (but were separated by the time my kid was 6 months) – Basically, I didn’t know WTF I was doing (still don’t) and I had no help; Google and I have been raising my kid together for the last 5 years. Needless to say, my experience as a mother has been Trial & ERROR. And though every kid is different, and the stupid shit one mom swears by may not work on yours, I’m hoping my failures may help at least one pour soul.
STAY-CATIONS
Sounds fancy. It’d be fun, right? Vacation without the long commute, saves time and money!
F*** that s***.
In retrospect, I’m probably the only imbecile that ever thought taking a crazy 2-3 year old on a staycation was a good idea….
In my head, I rationalized the intelligence of this trip as follows:
- The kid is OBSESSED with trains. He has like 8000 of them and spends his leisure lining them up and guarding them with his life, from unruly adult house cleaners, who seek to destroy all that is right in the world.
- He has an engineering mind. He wants to know how everything works. I figure that being on an actual freaking train and seeing it close up would blow his mind; ergo, keep his ass interested.
- The hotel. New place = Exploration! Wonder! Interest! Not to mention the amazing city view we had… and pool!
- Nice summer day. I got a hotel right next to a bunch of parks, the Waterfront Saturday Market, and of course – Powell Books and lots of breweries!!
I figured there was going to be so much new stimuli, it would be perfect.
I was wrong.
The Train
We took the Amtrak from Salem to Portland, which is about a 55-minute ride. Since the kid was obsessed with trains, I thought it was fool proof. I didn’t take into consideration the fact I would have to drag a kid, stroller, purse, my luggage and his – onto the train, off the train, to the hotel, then all the above over again- and let’s not forget dragging it to the front desk to store (vs. taking with me) at checkout time then returning to pick up prior to train departure. It was a fucking nightmare, for a lack of better words .
I was already sweating once we got to our seats. The only smart thing I did was get a Business Class ticket on the Cascade Route. The Starlight Coast Route – don’t waste your money, its way nicer.
Anyways, the first 5 minutes were great. He was just staring out the window like a perfectly behaved quadriplegic. I was in heaven.
Until my little Quadro decided he had seen enough trees and homeless camps and started getting progressively more “flail-y”. I busted out the iPad and put on all kinds of shit that I had downloaded preemptively, but I still couldn’t get wine fast enough to even out the anxiety one feels when they give a shit about your kid bugging other people.
As I said before, I only have one kid and am not well versed in the art of not giving a fuck (as so many others are). My kid starts kicking the seat ahead of him, my body tenses up like a virgin on prom night.
Anyways, going to the bathroom was also a big noisy, shaking catastrophe I will not elaborate on…. As well as pushing the stroller and 14 fucking duffel bags through an openly crack-smoking homeless camp (it was only 6 blocks but felt like 6 miles) …. we finally arrived at the hotel. Thank God.
Actually, thanking him may be a little premature at the moment.
The Hotel
We stayed at the Residence Inn (Pearl District) It was an awesome room. Plenty of space, lots of windows, a view… didn’t matter. The little shit was over it in about 13 minutes and don’t get me started on bedtime – fuck! He in no way, shape, or form, was going to sleep in this room. He wanted to sleep in mama’s bed. That was a blast. He eventually got tired enough and I ordered enough extra pillows to cage him in, he fell asleep. I on the other hand, have that horrible mom-thing that wakes me up every time he flinches (especially when I know he is distressed), so I didn’t sleep worth shit.
In case you were wondering, I tried this more than once. Three times to be exact. One of the trips we took, it was like 98 degrees outside. I was dragging him around via stroller, through the Saturday Market (with 14 bags of shit + shopping bags), checking out the live bands and shops. I had a fan and mister and we were still dead after about 30 min. My clothes were visibly drenched in sweat and we were beyond exhausted from the heat. Then I spilt shit all over me. We finally retreated to the Nordstrom coffee shop and hid out there until it was time to go get our bags.
We got an Uber and you wouldn’t believe the chore it was getting all the bags unpacked, breaking down the stroller, getting my kid into his – Oh, fuck! I definitely wasn’t packing a carseat around with me! Luckily this dude let me ride: the next time I wasn’t so lucky, though. The Uber refused to take me and my son to the the train station (though I did call the police station and verify it’s not illegal in taxis) and we missed our train. I had a breakdown on the corner-bawling and cussing , and had to have my dad come pick us up so I could make it to work the next day.
Anyway, this douche let us get a ride, however; about 8 blocks from the hotel, he stopped and said that is where Uber app said that it was. I was like, “no, it’s up there”. Though, it was apparent without me saying so. Long story short, it was his first Uber ride and he didn’t think he was going to get paid and made us get out on the side of the road and told us to call another Uber. Needless to say, I started bawling halfway though unpacking everything. Then we almost missed the train…. I was bawling again when we got there and some dude took pity on us and walked us to our platform.
My son was younger at this time but thus far, for kids under 5 (unless you were Gandhi in another life and blessed by God) I would definitely advise against Staycations of any sort. Too much planning, too much packing… if you’re trying to relax, it’s the opposite – you pay money to make your life more difficult in the same climate as your home. STUPID.
A Single White Female 
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