Having a child with autism means that you see things through a very different set of eyes. Every parent of an autistic child knows exactly what I am referring to. For example: My son does not see a cardboard skeleton hanging on someone's front door as you and I would. He sees something much more terrifying. To him it is very real. It is really going to reach out and grab him. My son has a one track mind. It can be rather difficult at times to help him "jump the track" as it were.
Now, for a kid who's passion is dinosaurs and who loves to watch them fight and rip each others heads off, one would not think that Halloween would terrify him the way that it does. And sadly for my son, he has a mother who adores Halloween! Our house is covered with orange candy corn lights on the outside. Pumpkins, gourds and beautiful amber colored mums line all the steps leading up to the front porch of our 125 year old farm house. Cheesecloth ghosts made by my youngest daughter are hanging from the front porch waving to passers by.
And then there is the inside of our house. Scarecrows everywhere! Halloween trees covered with years worth of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts Gang Halloween ornaments. More pumpkins and huge yellow ware bowls filled with gourds. Pumpkin and ghost lights hang in all of the old windows.
So, my son is not without exposure to Halloween. If anything, I would have expected that he would have been desensitized over the years. Not the case. He does however, love to play with the Charlie Brown characters. He enjoys watching A Charlie Brown Halloween on television each year. He even picked out a new costume this year. Super Mario! (an amazing feat since he has been either Sponge Bob or a caveman for the past five years!) But the week just before Halloween his behavior starts to become worse. He is teary. He is moody. He cannot look at the store displays. He shouts "I hate Halloween!" over and over.
Yesterday was his class party. He made it through the entire day. This year his teacher did not invite the parents. That was a first! I think that was really hard for my son. He wanted to bring cookies to his party and went to the market and chose the cookies that he wanted to take to and share with his classmates. And he was quite proud of this. But by the time he came home from school, he was crabby, crying and snapping at everyone. He was scared and angry. He really could not function at all. So, I popped him in a big comfy chair with a warm a fuzzy blanket and he watched Shrek's new Halloween show over and over until dinner.
This morning he woke me up before 5 telling me he was all better and he could not wait to go trick or treating! I reminded him that it is just our friends and neighbors under all those costumes. Just the people you know son. The friends you see everyday! Cardboard is just cardboard. If it scares you, take a pair of scissors to it! It's all fun and just make believe!
He goes through this every year. He will go trick or treating. For all of 15 or 20 minutes. My husband will take him back home and I will continue on with his younger sister. When we do return home sometime later, his sister will give him some of her candy. (Make no mistake.....it will be the candy she does not like!) But that act of partial kindness will touch his heart and we will have peace and happiness in our home.... for a few moments at any rate!
So, I wish you a wonderful, safe and a candy filled Happy Halloween!
Life With Laura
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Saturday, October 30, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Happy Anniversary??
Wow. I blink and three weeks go by. My apologies! My children have been ill. Sinus infections. Ear infections. Unresolved sinus infections! I seem to spend all of my time taking someone to the doctor or running to pick up a prescription or fixing someone soup and crackers in between never ending loads of laundry. Some weeks life is a blur.
It was when I had my son at the pediatrician for yet another ear infection that the doctor commented about just how far along my son has come in the ten years since she has been treating him. My son, having been plagued with chronic ear infections since five months of age has been a frequent flier at the pediatrician's office. Having a child like mine with autism means I usually travel with a muscle bound entourage that can assist with holding him down to have his ears looked at in order to confirm the ear infection diagnosis. The staff has always cringed when my family entered the office. Never a need to tell the receptionist our names. We just smile and take our seats.
But this time, my son who is now 12, sat very still and cooperated. Granted, he talked through the entire examination. But he allowed the doctor to look, to touch and to listen. I was waiting for the world to end because this had never happened before! After wards, when she was commenting on just how far he has come during those past ten years, I realized that it was this very time of year ten years ago that my son was diagnosed with autism. My mind began to wander.
As I walked back to my car with my son I looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. He is 5 feet, 2 inches right now. He's big. He is strong. And he never shuts up! But I can still see that adorable little baby face with smiling blue eyes and dimples. They are still present. Not yet lost to puberty. I began to remember him a decade ago.
When my son was just two he did not speak. He screamed. He did not seem to understand what I was saying to him. He could not follow simple directions. He did however, do things that we felt were so unique and wondrous that surely he would grow up into something amazing!
If he wanted something out of the refrigerator, he would open the refrigerator door and then pull out all of the drawers in order to make a ladder to step up and fetch exactly what he needed from the refrigerator. He could carry a full gallon of milk and bring it to you when he was thirsty. He could assemble a puzzle in record time. My son could not talk, however he was an artist. The walls of his bedroom were covered with his crayon drawings of people. All very different looking. Some had glasses. Some had facial hair. Some had long hair and some had short hair. Some were smiling and were happy. Some were frowning and looked just as frustrated as my son clearly was. But all of it was beautiful. A treasure that I truly wish I had today.
These acts and behaviors, as we were informed by our pediatrician at the time, were not on the "normal" spectrum of pediatric development. So, we were sent off to a specialist. A pediatric neurologist. This specialist wanted us to first be screened by a genetic team which cleared us of anything genetically abnormal. So, after reviewing all of my son's records and reports he looked at us and said that he believed our son had autism. My husband said nothing. I held on tightly to my bouncy toddler and asked the neurologist if this meant my son was going to be bagging groceries for a living. He answered me with such coldness that it still angers me to this day. "I have many patient's that bag groceries for a living. What's wrong with that?" What's wrong with that? Everything.
Looking at him today I see so much intelligence and potential it overwhelms me at times. And there are those days where I think he will never get to college, let alone graduate high school! My husband and I made a pact the day he was diagnosed, that we would raise our son to be the most independent and self reliant, educated human being that we could raise. It is a constant battle. Being the parent of an autistic child means you never have a day off. You can never get sick. You sleep with one eye and one ear open at night. You hate, loathe and despise the term "Baby Steps"! And you learn that the saying is really "One step forward, two steps backward".
But our son is the gift that God has given us. He makes us laugh and cry. Sometimes on a daily basis. And I have yet to meet a purer soul on the planet. So bizarre as it may seem to celebrate a ten year anniversary of a life altering diagnosis such as this, I look at where we all were ten years ago and where we are now. And my greatest hope is that in another ten years that I can share with you the trials and funny moments of an autistic young man's college life adventure! So, my son keep at it and I wish you a Happy Anniversary!
It was when I had my son at the pediatrician for yet another ear infection that the doctor commented about just how far along my son has come in the ten years since she has been treating him. My son, having been plagued with chronic ear infections since five months of age has been a frequent flier at the pediatrician's office. Having a child like mine with autism means I usually travel with a muscle bound entourage that can assist with holding him down to have his ears looked at in order to confirm the ear infection diagnosis. The staff has always cringed when my family entered the office. Never a need to tell the receptionist our names. We just smile and take our seats.
But this time, my son who is now 12, sat very still and cooperated. Granted, he talked through the entire examination. But he allowed the doctor to look, to touch and to listen. I was waiting for the world to end because this had never happened before! After wards, when she was commenting on just how far he has come during those past ten years, I realized that it was this very time of year ten years ago that my son was diagnosed with autism. My mind began to wander.
As I walked back to my car with my son I looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. He is 5 feet, 2 inches right now. He's big. He is strong. And he never shuts up! But I can still see that adorable little baby face with smiling blue eyes and dimples. They are still present. Not yet lost to puberty. I began to remember him a decade ago.
When my son was just two he did not speak. He screamed. He did not seem to understand what I was saying to him. He could not follow simple directions. He did however, do things that we felt were so unique and wondrous that surely he would grow up into something amazing!
If he wanted something out of the refrigerator, he would open the refrigerator door and then pull out all of the drawers in order to make a ladder to step up and fetch exactly what he needed from the refrigerator. He could carry a full gallon of milk and bring it to you when he was thirsty. He could assemble a puzzle in record time. My son could not talk, however he was an artist. The walls of his bedroom were covered with his crayon drawings of people. All very different looking. Some had glasses. Some had facial hair. Some had long hair and some had short hair. Some were smiling and were happy. Some were frowning and looked just as frustrated as my son clearly was. But all of it was beautiful. A treasure that I truly wish I had today.
These acts and behaviors, as we were informed by our pediatrician at the time, were not on the "normal" spectrum of pediatric development. So, we were sent off to a specialist. A pediatric neurologist. This specialist wanted us to first be screened by a genetic team which cleared us of anything genetically abnormal. So, after reviewing all of my son's records and reports he looked at us and said that he believed our son had autism. My husband said nothing. I held on tightly to my bouncy toddler and asked the neurologist if this meant my son was going to be bagging groceries for a living. He answered me with such coldness that it still angers me to this day. "I have many patient's that bag groceries for a living. What's wrong with that?" What's wrong with that? Everything.
Looking at him today I see so much intelligence and potential it overwhelms me at times. And there are those days where I think he will never get to college, let alone graduate high school! My husband and I made a pact the day he was diagnosed, that we would raise our son to be the most independent and self reliant, educated human being that we could raise. It is a constant battle. Being the parent of an autistic child means you never have a day off. You can never get sick. You sleep with one eye and one ear open at night. You hate, loathe and despise the term "Baby Steps"! And you learn that the saying is really "One step forward, two steps backward".
But our son is the gift that God has given us. He makes us laugh and cry. Sometimes on a daily basis. And I have yet to meet a purer soul on the planet. So bizarre as it may seem to celebrate a ten year anniversary of a life altering diagnosis such as this, I look at where we all were ten years ago and where we are now. And my greatest hope is that in another ten years that I can share with you the trials and funny moments of an autistic young man's college life adventure! So, my son keep at it and I wish you a Happy Anniversary!
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