I'm OK Now

It had been a hard week. Hard does actually not begin to cover it. There were days when we couldn't leave the house. Days when there was more yelling than speaking. There were meltdowns on both our parts, and there was hitting on his part. I don't hit, or rather I don't hit people. Pillows on the other hand - well, they got hit this week. Anyway - a hard week (maybe even several weeks - I lose track).

At one point though, there was a break in the action. AJ came up behind me and gave me a big hug. It was the first time in at least week that he touched me without violence. At first I just enjoyed the hug. But, I gradually realized that it wasn't a regular hug. It was too intense. And it was getting more intense.

I turned around and picked him up and put him on my lap. He's a big kid, almost as tall as me. He doesn't fit on my lap - but he hasn't noticed that. Anyway, he started to make this screaming sound. But without opening his mouth. You know, the kind you can make in the back of your throat. Go ahead and try, I'll wait...

Ok, if you did it, you realize that after awhile, that hurts your throat. It's the kind of noise you would make if you were in serious pain. So, I knew he was in pain - serious emotional pain. He sat on my lap, making that sound for almost 45 minutes. I just held him, and spoke nonsence words quietly. Sending my love, feeling his pain. Trying not to cry.

Then he started to cry, for about 2 -3 minutes (he's not much of a cryer). Then he just stopped. He looked up at me with his giant blue eyes and said:

"I'm sorry. I'm OK now. Thanks, Mama."

Five minutes later we were playing and wrestling. I'm exhausted, but I'm OK now too.

Stranger in a Strange Land

I have always known that my son has a difficult time with the social aspects of life. He's autistic - that's kinda the thing. I give him all the tips and tricks I can for dealing with people. He asks questions about people and what to do. But I just didn't understand the depth of his lack of understanding until we had this conversation:

AJ: "Mama, I've noticed people like to socialize."

Me: "Yeah, it's kind of an NT thing."

AJ: "But, why? WHY do people like to socialize? WHY do they NEED to socialize?"

Me: "Hmmmm, not sure. I guess people just like to feel connected to other people. It makes them feel less lonely, I guess."

AJ: "Why can't they just feel connected to themselves? Why do I have to learn to socialize - why can't they learn to NOT socialize?"

Me: "Because there are a lot more of them than you."

AJ: "That's a stupid reason!"

He's right, though. Why should he have to change? Why can't we all just let people be who they are? Why do we all feel the need to make people do things that we like, that we need? Why can't we just accept that everyone is different and everyone needs different things to be happy?

It's a difficult world for people who are different. Maybe we could all learn to help to make it easier.

Happy Birthday

Today, AJ turned 9 years old. It's unbelievable to me. It seems like just yesterday that I was in a neverending labor (76 hours all together). When he was finally born, it was a miracle. I was never supposed to be able to get pregnant in the first place. He was so tiny, only 6 pounds even, but 21 inches long. You could count his ribs (still can, actually). He was absolutely perfect. So incredibly beautiful that he took my breath away.

Right away, though, he seemed more sensitive to stimulus than other babies. He cried more and slept less. We just thought that he was high maintenance, like his mama. He was developing cognitively right on track or early. He was speaking words by nine months old, and sentences by 1 year old. He read early, too. But, he didn't crawl until 1 year, and walked by 18 months. He didn't want to play with the other kids. We thought maybe he was so bright that he was frustrated by the other kids. That may have been part of it.

At first, he didn't seem that much different than other kids. Even after his diagnosis of Autism, the differences were pretty minor. He social skills were a little delayed, he gross motor skills were a little delayed, he melted down a little more. But in kindergarten, and even first grade, it didn't seem that big.

Now, though, the differences - well, they're huge. The kids his age care about fashion already. They care about their friends, and don't want to hang out with their moms. They don't meltdown, at least in public. They get embarassed by their parents in front of their friends.
AJ doesn't do any of that. And it breaks my heart. I watch the gap between him and the other kids get bigger and bigger. I wonder if it's unsurmoutable. I wonder how he will function in the world. I wonder how he will handle the working environment. He just doesn't like people, and he just wants to avoid any and all socializing at any cost.

So, I worry. Constantly. But, those big blue eyes, and that amazing giggle still take my breath away. That sweet smile can melt anyone's heart. So, on his birthday, I'm making a wish. I wish people would learn to accept differences. To open their hearts and notice the beauty in our kids. To make the world a safe place to live and love and be safe for everyone, even if they're different, just because they're people. For my son, and all the people in the world like him, I'm working my butt off to make this wish come true.

Too Funny

I'm upstairs checking my e-mail. AJ is downstairs, reading. I try to encourage individual time. Since we homeschool, we are ALWAYS together. So, my opinion, we just need some separate space.

So, anyway, I just heard hysterical laughter. HYSTERICAL!!!

Me - Hey, AJ, what's so funny?

AJ - Funny stuff, Mama.

Me - What's funny, AJ?

AJ - Tom and Jerry Marathon on TV.

Me - What are they doing that's so funny?

AJ - I'm not sure, but it's making me laugh my ass off.

OK, WHAT?????????????? Now I'm laughing my ass off.

This Is Where I Belong

AJ and I joined the Audubon Society. It's our plan to do all the hikes in our area. So, on Monday, we headed out for our first one. AJ loves the woods. It's quiet, with very little stimulation. Also, AJ HATES bugs. HATES! And, he is terrified of them. But, in the woods, he decided not to be scared anymore. Being there was more important to him. More important than the hated and feared bugs. That is amazing.

I let him use my digital camera. He was taking the most beautiful pictures. He's got a great eye. I was so impressed. I'm thinking he's getting a digital camera for his birthday in August. He has a "kid" one, but the resolution sucks, and he knows it. He's just so good, and it makes him so happy to take pics. He's really gentle with the camera, and knows how to use the macro features, and turn off the flash.

Anyway, the point was, as we were walking around, AJ was just so happy. He kept saying "This is it, Mama. This is where I belong. This is my place." And it is. Everyone has a place - a place where they feel whole, and comfortable. Nature is his. We are going to spend more time there - in his place, where he belongs.

Peace out.

What Are You Doing?

Lately, whenever we are together in a room hanging out, AJ will ask me "What are you doing?" He's sitting next to me. He'll be watching a video, or reading. I'll be doing one of three things - working on making jewelry, checking my e-mail, or reading. It's not hard to figure out. So, at first, when he started doing this, here's how it went.

AJ: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

AJ: "What are you doing?"

Me: (calmly) "Reading, sweetie."

I was thinking that if I just answered, eventually he would figure out that I was doing exactly what it looked like I was doing. Nope, it didn't work. Here's what I tried next:

AJ: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

AJ: "What are you doing?"

Me: (calmly) "What does it look like I'm doing?"

AJ: "Reading?"

Me: (really trying for calm) "That's right, reading, sweetie."

I was thinking that if I asked him what he thought, and he found that he was right, he would stop asking, and just look. Strike two. Here's next:

AJ: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

AJ: "What are you doing?"

Me: (as sarcastically as possible, cuz it's the only way he gets sarcasm) "Wrestling aligators, sweetie." (or trekking the great northwest, or voting for the president - really, I've got millions of them)

AJ: "Mama, come on!!! You're reading."

Now, I'm thinking I won, but two minutes later:

AJ: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

AJ: "What are you doing?"

Strike three! AARRGGHH!!!!!!

Peace out.

When You Notice That They Notice (Especially When You Forgot)...

When you have a child with special needs, you don't forget about it very often. I am alway researching on line, reading about autism, taking AJ to his appointments, etc. So, I don't "forget" that he has autism very often.

But, last week, AJ and I went to the Children's Museum in Boston. He LOVES that place. LOVES!!! So, he was playing in the climbing structure. Being a kid. And I was just being a mom. Just a mom. Hanging out, watching him. He came out of the structure all excited. He made it all the way to the top and back. He was so proud. He couldn't do it last time, so I was so proud of him.

He was doing his happy AJ thing. He was flapping hard. When he flaps like that, you can actually hear his bones. And he does this "Stevie Wonder thing" with his head. Like when Stevie plays piano. Just freely moving his head. I'm used to it. Just AJ being happy.

I happened to look to my left for a minute. And, BOOM. I noticed that they noticed.

I heard and saw the other mothers staring at my kid.

I heard someone say "What's wrong with that kid?"

Another mother said "Probably a retard."

First mom "Glad that's not my kid."

Me: "Yeah, he's glad too."

It wasn't nice of me, but I think they had it coming. Because he's just a kid, just being a kid. Since when is that a bad thing?

Peace out.