The Cabbage Patch

Autism Awareness ~ A Social Primer

If you happen to meet a child/person with autism...it's okay.  They don't bite.  Usually.

Sometimes their conversation is odd.  Sometimes, they will talk about something endlessly.  Sometimes they don't understand personal space.   

But, guess what?  They can be redirected very easily.  Ask a question.  Most can answer the question.  Answer questions they may have.  Most teens with autism have been taught how to have a conversation.  They forget the rules sometimes, but can be sent back on track when they go "off topic".  They know that term.  They know to answer questions then to ask one right back.  Why?  How?  Their therapists work very hard with them to teach them social skills.

By the time an child with autism has it teen years, they're aware of their differences.  They just want to fit in.  So, help them along.  They know when you are lovingly helping them.  Use humor.  

What's not helpful?  Answering a question with yes or no and then turning away effectively ending the conversation before it even starts.  Rolling your eyes at them.  Muttering under your breath to "Go home".  Asking within hearing distance of a sibling "Why did you ask HIM?"  

Above all?  Remember the golden rule.

Autism Awareness ~ A Look Back

I was driving home this morning from our OT (Occupational Therapy) appointment this morning and thinking back to the day of diagnosis.

We were just coming off the high of learning of Pumpkin's pregnancy.  Just the day before, on Sunday, we had learned I was pregnant with her.  Such wonderful news for us.  

The appointment only took an hour, but what a life changing hour it was.

The previous 12 months had been fraught with questions.  Each appointment only brought questions, not answers.  One psychologist insisted on medicated for ADHD.  He also thought Brother had ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder).  We PCS'd so we sought answers elsewhere.  Upon learning about developmental pediatricians, I made an appointment almost immediately to get a referral.  In September of 2004, 2 months after arriving in Texas, we met with one.

He listened closely and carefully to everything I said.  He asked many questions all the while he observed Brother.

At the end?  High functioning autism.

It was bittersweet.  Relief at a name.  Relief that his behavior was not because of bad parenting.  Sadness.  Grief.  Fear.  Worry.  

Then, the planner in me got going.  What would we need to do?  We started at another therapy clinic, but I didn't like it there.  How can you treat children with autism when the appointments weren't even on the same day much less the same hour each week?  We got our referral changed to Kidz Therapeze.  I LOVE the therapists and staff at this clinic.  

It has been a long, hard road for all of us.  We had bumps along the way.  I've had regrets.  Regrets on how many times Brother got in trouble for something he had no control over.  I know many moms of children with autism feel this way.  I know as I've spoken to them.  

There's still more to go.  But, we're moving along.  It's not going as fast as he'd like, but he'll get there.  Where you ask?  Independent living.  

This was taken in 2010.

April is Autism Awareness Month

My son.

He gives me big hugs.

He is afraid to introduce himself to new people at youth group.

He remembers everyone's birthdays.

He struggles with creating the word pictures in his mind so he prefers nonfiction books.

He loves music.

He struggles with being a teen.  He wants to be like everyone else which is a teen thing anyway the struggle seems bigger for him.

He is loyal.

He gets thrown off when someone is seen out of context like seeing a therapist at a store.

He knows his faith so well.  He is an awesome altar server and never misses the bells for consecration and he rings them joyously.

He blames me for his loss of weight and slowing of his growth spurt.  He says it's because I've made all these appointments that stress him out.  

He plays baby dolls with his youngest sister.  

He wears a hoodie with pockets on cold days so I can warm my hands while he wraps his arms around me.  

He struggles to navigate a social world with so many unwritten rules of engagements.  A world where there are too many nuances for him to catch.  

This is my son.

This is the face of autism.