Posted By: cmdonnab on
Wednesday, February 28th, 2007, 2:06 am
Ever hear that about your child? What does it make you think?
I heard it again today from someone. I know he meant well, but I'm not sorry -- I want my son to learn to be able to control his behaviors better, particularly his anger and his sensory issues, but he's got some extraordinary gifts he'd never have otherwise. His savant-like music memorization skill, his ability to say wise things, and his lovely lack of concern about what others think about him wearing his Incredibles pants with a Pokemon shirt to school -- I wouldn't give those things up for anything. (And who wouldn't love to have a day where they do whatever they want and REALLY mean it when they say "I don't care what others think.")
On the other hand, I would give up the "MOMMY, it smells BAD...," because this can happen not only standing next to a sterilized garbage can, where he can still smell the trash that only bionic mice can smell as it's been empty for six months, but it can happen next to a person in the store. Or, as it happened this week, when we went to the dentist last night. The poor hygienist admitted to not having been forewarned yet she understood that when he told her to shut her stupid big pinehole (aka her mouth), he didn't really mean it. (That, however, doesn't mean I didn't address it with him afterwards...it just wasn't the time when she had a water hose and suction in his mouth and I had his feet in my hands. Dentist appointments + child with oral sensitivities=difficulty.) I have to give it to him though, while the office smell didn't bother me, I certainly did notice if after he started gagging. Too clean can be a bad thing, I guess. I could also do without the tens of awakenings a night, the sleepwalking and the night terrors, but we can't have everything. (And in case you're wondering, I didn't muddy the waters by explaining that it's "piehole," not "pinehole.")
Any level of autism may not offhand seem like a gift, but it can be a blessing. In some ways, the very things that are seen as a detriment in 'normal' society can protect him.
It's been a rough month or so for him at school. Supposedly he's got 'the most self-control issues out of all the children in the class.' He's also 'mean' and 'lacks empathy.' I cringe when the phone rings and I see the school number now, no matter how nicely they phrase it. His social skills are being worked on with a behaviorist at home and professionals at school, and he has improved, but we've got a long ways to go. The older he gets, the more his deficits show in some regards -- and the challenges change as he grows. Somehow finger flapping, lining up of his toys, spinning, and obsessive behaviors don't seem as concerning as they used to. I'll take his echoing of Spongebob episodes, word-for-word, over him yelling mean things when he can't control his environment -- and we're not talking boogary normal childhood behavior of wanting his way, but wanting to control time, lighting, sound, odors, and crowd level. If he can't get his reactions to the environment under control, he can self-inflict nasty scratches down his face, punch himself in the face, or tug out bunches of eyelashes. On the other hand, when things are good, he loves on mommy, plays with his Pokemon stuffed animal collection for hours (has to be alone, doesn't even like to be watched), colors you adorable pictures with hearts and kisses, and will watch Avatar over and over, often asking me to sit with him, unspeaking but nonetheless as close as possible.
School will work itself out. It's just the beginning of dealing with the issues that all kids face in school, but it can be heartbreaking. He's so incredibly smart, we have no idea of exactly how smart but we're not worried about IQ. During a diagnosis process, they began an IQ test but his need to touch every object on every page, in a certain pattern, prohibited the psychologist from completing the test in time or as necessary. The little we learned is that he was advanced, so he needs to be challenged to keep him sitting still or you get the one quarter of a cheek on the chair, like we do during dinner. I just need to find a way to make everything as fun as playing Gameboy, and we'll be all set.
My son is a gift. He is who he is. He is a doll, a beautiful little boy with hazel-green eyes that shine with mischief or grow dark when he's emotional. Life with him is an adventure, and I am so blessed he is mine. This may just be one of a million blog entries by a mom of an ASD child, but if it helps autism awareness by showing 'a day in the life...' and dismantles a stereotype, it's worth it to share the personal details. I'd love to hear some of yours.
Tags:
autism, aspergers
(1)
comment
Leave a Comment
Rate It:
Currently 1/5 Stars.
