I read somewhere that the first
thing a parent with children on the autism spectrum realizes is that other
families do not go through the same struggles with their children as we
do. We see other families in the
supermarkets, the parks, and at school, and they do not seem to struggle the
way we do. The relief of the diagnosis is that we now at last know why, we have
a reason; it is not just bad parenting.
That realization goes double for
the parent of the ASD child, who is on the spectrum herself. I naturally assume
that other people go through the same things that I do. I never considered they
were experiencing their lives differently. I just assumed the problem was me. I
was a terrible mother—my children were undisciplined because of my parenting.
I could not keep up, and it was MY
FAULT.
I was peripherally aware that
others seemed to be doing better than me, that other children were calmer and
more behaved. Because I do not socialize
with other parents, and my friends and family live 600 miles away I live fairly
isolated. The isolation has sheltered me somewhat from really feeling the difference
between my family and other’s.
My brother stayed at our house with
my two year old niece over the Thanksgiving weekend. She is a beautiful, calm
little princess that I love dearly. We spent the days playing and giggling, and
on Friday we drove down to the beach and put our little ones on amusement park
rides.
Over this past weekend I really
felt our differences. My niece napped, she didn’t bang her head and flail
around for hours. She sat and ate her meals, while my son (6 months younger)
screamed, threw things, and tried to run away.
My eight year old had multiple
meltdowns due to the overstimulation of the holidays and extra people in the
house. Aspie Teen become Hyper-Aspie
Teen because he was excited about having family over for the holidays, and had
difficulty being appropriate in adult conversations.
My niece was happy and smiling
riding the amusement park rides, while my little one screamed, climbed out and
ran away. Then of course, he wanted Mom, who was riding and began screaming and
shaking the gates around the rides to get to me.
Although I had a great weekend, it
was incredibly exhausting, and at times very lonely even amidst a group of
people. For the first time, I felt very acutely our family’s differences.
Feeling the differences made me aware of the people around us, their scolding
looks, and the comments like, “we would
nip that right in the bud,” when our children had an eye-raising reaction
to the stimuli around them.
No—they would not, they could not, not if they lived in our
family.
When was the first time you FELT the differences? Do outings
with friends or holiday gatherings with family make you feel it more?
