There are so many things any of us can't do. I love watching the Olympics, but I'll never be anything more than a slow, uncoordinated athele. The list of things I can't do is huge.

But, if I look at what I can do, life gets bigger, brighter. Daniel may very well never pass for "normal," but we'd better not let him sink inside himself, not trying new things.

As of this week, he can kayak.

We went on the promised trip to our neighbor's cabin, right on the river, in the flood zone, to be exact. Her cabin on stilts was wonderful. Marian, our neighbor, has a grandson on the spectrum, so she was well prepared to share 3 1/2 days with us in the woods. She had a canoe, two small kayaks, and inner tubes for us to use along the small stretch of river, which included a really nice series of what I'll call, "beginner rapids." We'd send the little kids down them in inner tubes and flotation vests, and have an adult standing downstream to pull them out. Daniel shot the rapids in, yes, a kayak.

He never did master the technique of getting back in while standing in deepish water, but that's really hard. And, yes, his dad pulled him out of the rapids just like he pulled out the little ones, because Daniel didn't have the finesse to stop himself. If we had stayed longer, though, who knows what he'd have learned?

Wednesday evening, it began to rain. Thursday it rained more. And more... Because we had to drive several miles along a dirt road to get to and from the cabin, we decided to call it quits a few hours early.

The ride home was almost peaceful, but by the time we got home, everyone was very ready to get out of the car. Daniel was glad to be here, but was tense and had a small series of minor meltdowns. Just as I was wondering if we'd have to go live by a river, Eric the Intrepid came up with an explanation. "Do you think he's used up all his 'good'?" That's a phrase we use with very small children who behave very well for as long as they can, and then suddenly really, really can't keep it together any longer.

Yes, I think that's what it was. It was good to be home, but he hadn't transitioned fully yet. He asked us to take away his manga drawing books. We told him he could put them in the garage. He asked us to take away his trumpet and his dragon collection, but I wouldn't. "That didn't calm you before, Daniel. What are you going to do to calm yourself?" Push-ups? No. Sit-ups? No. Yoga? No. He played his trumpet for a bit, then stopped and erupted, not in a scary way, but just really annoying. He just couldn't calm down. "Come on, Daniel, you have to take care of yourself. What are you going to do to take care of yourself so you can calm down?" I asked. "I'm going to take an Epsom Salt bath!" he roared.

He did. And it worked. He can't calm himself without help, yet. But, maybe with time and practice, he will one day. It's a thought worth holding on to.