This kid NEVER tires of bubbles.

This time last year, I was a crazy person. I didn't realize it, but I was.

I was at home full-time with my four-year-old autistic son and my one-year-old wanna-be Tazmanian Deviless, and I pre-planned every moment of each day in 15-minute intervals. I am not even exaggerating. I wish.

Three weeks into this road map to the nut house, I was actually half-praying to get sick, so that I would have an excuse to go to bed and not sing “5 Little Ducks” again. I was convinced that my children hated me and that my failures amused them.

Things definitely got better once I loosened the reigns a little bit and allowed everyone the occasional half-hour Dora break. But still, I looked on with envy at the parents happily packing their kids off to camp at the science museum or the children's theater or local parks department. Or even those parents that just let their kids spend all day in the back yard without worrying whether they were learning or not. No one had warned them about the dangers of "regression."

FYI, my parents never worried about regression over the summer either. In fact, I can't even remember much about my parents being THERE during the summer. I know they were; somehow we got fed, bathed and put to bed. But summer was spent riding my bike around the neighborhood, playing in backyard forts, digging holes in stuff and generally, avoiding adult intervention at all costs.

Anyway, it's not that "normal" camps wouldn't accept Billy. But in the case of most camps geared toward normally developing children, with staff trained to handle aforementioned normally developing children, I get the impression that they consider the day a success if no one calls 911. As long as everyone's smiling most of the time, job done.

And if I were them, I would feel the same way.

I wanted Billy to continue to learn, at his level, throughout the summer. I wanted him to have the chance to work on those areas we've identified as challenges – social skills, expressive language, emotional control, independent work time – but I also wanted him to enjoy himself. Really enjoy himself.

Rather than Camp Stims-A-Lot where he'd be allowed to wander around aimlessly, lost in his own world, so long as he wasn't hurting anyone, I wanted him to be challenged. At the same time, I wanted him to have the opportunity to engage in those activities in which he really excels.

I don't ask for much.

As it turns out, my extremely high expectations are not impossible to meet.

This year, for the first time, Billy's behavior therapy group, BMC Southeast, launched a special summer program, Camp Escape, for elementary- and middle-school-aged kids. During the first three-week session, their theme is “Planes, Trains, Automobiles and Carriages.” The second session will have a “Legends and Fairy Tales” theme, while the final session, running two weeks is all about “Games and Sports.”

The Camp Escape staff are ABA specialists, with the director, Dr. Dawn Bailey, BCBA-D, being a Billy specialist extraordinaire. So far this week, every day in which I've been there, there has been a 1:1 ratio of staff to kids, and they're committed to never having a greater than 1:3 ratio throughout the summer. Because of this strong staff ratio, each child's day can be tailor-made, to some degree, to fit their individual needs, interests and challenges.

Since Billy started working with the wonderful people at BMC about a year ago, he's made remarkable progress. I'm a firm believer that no single intervention has ever been enough for Billy – he has been blessed with a multi-faceted and committed team of speech, occupational, and behavior therapists – as well as wonderful teachers and aides – but the therapists at BMC have been a part of his school day, as well as his home life. Ms. Elyse, his private therapist, has come to church with us and helped us get a haircut. And every time she and/or Dr. Bailey has been involved in some challenge we've encountered along the spectrum, they offered up ideas and the situation has significantly improved.

A year ago, Billy wasn't potty-trained. His functional language was limited. He would eat about three things. He had a great deal of difficulty transitioning from one activity to another, and he rarely played with other children – or even seemed to care whether they were there or not.

On his second day of camp, he apparently approached a new friend, called him by name, and said, “Come play with me!” When the kid in question didn't immediately jump at the opportunity, Billy guided him over to his newly discovered wonder: Zhu Zhu Pets.

The campers' days have been full of music and dance, outside games, crafts, water play, developmental play – all with an eye toward encouraging social interaction, better communication and the kind of learning that happens when they don't even realize it. As Dr. Bailey said to me at the beginning of the summer, “I don't want this to be Camp Therapy.” And it's not.

That being said, at the end of every day, I get an in-depth one-on-one report from Dr. Bailey about Billy's day, the parts of it he enjoyed most, the moments during which he had challenges and how those challenges were approached/handled. A picture choice chart, for instance, has eliminated aimless wandering during free play time. His use of pronouns, I'm told, has been improving steadily. And today he had a full day that was essentially meltdown-free!

Billy took this trophy to bed with him tonight.

And yesterday, Billy won a trophy for his expertise at “Train, Train, Car” (“Duck, Duck, Goose”). I'm not even sure how one actually wins at “Duck, Duck, Goose,” but the award has joined his Bash and Dash trophy on the mantlepiece nonetheless.

But the greatest reward so far, without a doubt, has been the image of him greeting a new friend with excitement and actually asking him to come play with him. A year ago, I was not sure if that moment would ever come, and if I'd been able to choose one goal for the whole summer, that would have been it. So as far as I'm concerned, this camp has already been TOTALLY worth every penny.

Speaking of our pennies, Camp Escape is $300 per week for a full 8:30 – 3:30 day (after care can be arranged for $75/week.) Session 1 runs June 13 – July 1; Session 2 is July 11 – July 29 and the final session runs August 1 – August 12. They can also arrange half-days, if someone's schedule doesn't permit a full-day program.

The location is at Good Samaritan United Methodist Church and you can find out more at www.bmcsoutheast. There's still room for more campers, if you're in the Tallahassee area, and Billy and I would LOVE to have you join our beautiful little group!

But keep in mind that the competition for “Duck, Duck, Goose” is fierce.