Month: April 2019

Once again, it is April and we find ourselves in Autism Awareness Month. I have written about it previously and why I am on board with Autism Acceptance and not (just) Awareness. You can read about my thoughts here. This year, I am going to show you two views of autism at our house.

Sometimes it is BAD

Recently my son decided he did not want to go to his expected appointment. I decided that he was capable of doing so, therefore he would go. It didn’t end well for either of us. A bit of backstory, he works better when he has advance notice of places to be or things he has to do. Even with knowing in advance, he needs constant repetition for it not to feel overwhelming to him.

Fast forward to the day of his appointment. He knew of this appointment, it is recurring as a matter of fact. I had done my due diligence in reminding him often, the last being just an hour before. Once the time came to go, he felt bad and refused to leave. I assured him that he could talk to the professional and assess whether he could complete the appointment. This was a strategy we had come up with the last time this happened. He continued to insist that this time, that was not going to work and he didn’t care what I said, he wasn’t going.

Now, a lot of my parenting is spent keeping my inner 10-year old from coming out to eviscerate anyone it feels is out to get me. This often means my kids. They are not really out to get me, but the push back sounds like it to my inner kid. Keepiing that inner kid quiet looks like me speaking in calm, quiet tones. Not engaging when I am told how much I’m mean and hated. Walking away whenever the verbal attacks feel like too much or morphe into physical attacks. Most of the time it works and we can all reset and address the problem.

It gets WORSE

That didn’t work this time. It failed spectacularly, with fireworks and club music as accompanying background. I started off well. I repeated what he should do, what was expected, how we could compromise and he still refused to budge. His refusal went so far as to have him falling on the floor in abject horror at the very idea. I realized I was not going to get him to move and had to accept it. Next was to move on and make sure I followed through with the expected consequences.

When I tried to walk away, he decided that was not acceptable. He then locked his body around my feet and legs in an effort to ensure I did not walk away. This was the beginning of the end. No matter the calm I had been able to foster up until this point, I now lost all of it. I ended up in fight to keep myself safe from my own son. I was heartbroken and wrong and devastated at what I saw as my failure to be able to handle anything.

But being able to handle everything is not the mark of a good parent, it isn’t the mark of a bad one either, frankly, it is just a lie we have told ourselves. Where does it say we are supposed to handle every situation with grace and aplomb? Nowhere I have found. I spend a lot of time with my son, schooling him, transporting him to appointments, and everything in between. Somehow, I still fall into the myth that I am in control of him. Well, I am not. I can not control him, just as I can not control any other person. At the end of hours of back and forth, I felt defeated and torn apart by the actions and words we had inflicted on one another. I wanted to give up, and I probably did for a few hours at the end there.

Other times, it is awe-inspiring

My son has a keen and quick mind. It is often used in myriad efforts designed to make his life easier. Unfortunately his idea of easy, is really just him cutting corners and trying to get the most with the least effort. This sounds like a terrible thing, and in some cases it is just delaying the inevitable. Sometimes though, he comes up with great ideas that work well, especially for him.

There was the time he made grilled cheese by toasting bread, buttering it, then melting cheese between the slices in the microwave. All because he didn’t want to clean up a pan, nor wait for it to heat up. I may not want to eat this type of grilled cheese, but he loves it, can do it himself, and doesn’t leave a mess I have to beg him to clean up later.

There was the time I realized he saw adding three digit numbers and multiplying as patterns he broke down in his head to get the right answers. I would require him to show his work as he started working multi-step problems. My son would balk at the very idea of writing any more than he absolutely had to in order to get the answer. Often, in his mind, this meant he only wrote down an answer. I finally stopped complaining and cajoling and asked him how he got the answer.

Then he explained himself and my mouth dropped open, I had to ask him to slow down and repeat himself. The answer was a complicated, to me, series of patterns that he saw clearly and used to come to the answer. I have taken several higher level math courses and had never thought in the ways he did. Some of his ways were better for understanding what was going on anyway. And that should be the outcome of education. We should understand so that we can then apply it and answer problems. We should not be memorizing facts that last for a year or shorter with no way to translate it to the next step.

Nothing is dull

As in many areas of our lives, life with him is good and bad, up and down. What it isn’t is a death sentence. It isn’t a sad thing. He struggles with some things, at others he excels beyond my imaginings. Life with him is not what I pictured when I found out I was pregnant. In many, many ways, it is so much harder and painful. Yet, when I stop focusing on the difficult, negative things, I see the great beauty of viewing life the way he does. It is quirky, and funny, and wild. It is full of breath stopping hugs and kisses on your arm when you least expect it. He brings a dimension to our lives that only he can. And I know, God made him for just such a time as this.

I challenge you to accept, not only the autistic people in your life, but anyone different than yourself. Different isn’t bad, or wrong, or made to be hidden. Different is, just as the sun is. And you wouldn’t want to be without the sun, would you?