June 2018 – Able Buddies NC

A few weeks ago I met a lady and I shared that my son has autism, she got all excited (as we special needs parents often do). It’s kind of like finding another member of the club. Anyway, she was telling me that her young son was recently diagnosed. She was so happy that she finally found the answer to why her child was “different”. She said that his IQ is at genius level, and that he was talking in full sentences and using “big” words as a toddler. I feel sure that this child can already see how he surpasses other children his age.

I was visiting with a friend the other day and she was sharing with me that a member of her family has a young son with autism and the parents are at odds with whether or not to tell the him. He is at the age where he is becoming aware of the children around him.

My son is 26 and non-verbal. His last IEP evaluated him at the level of a 6 month to 3 year old. Have I told him that he has autism? No, I have not sat him down and said “Son, there is a physical reason that you are different from your peers.” But we have used the words around him. We have always discussed his autism in his presence, talking about it as if it’s no big deal. Because, we feel that for him and us, it really isn’t. (We have been dealing with this for 1/2 my life…there’s nothing new here)

Now if he was higher functioning, and unaware of his diagnosis, I would have told him that he has autism as soon as possible. I think it would be unfair NOT to tell him. There must be enough questions in his head adding to his frustration and anxiety. And one simple word could ease his pain and confusion. It’s my job to protect him, and keeping him bubble wrapped would only help me, not him.

What do YOU think? Have you told your child? And if not, why haven’t you?

~ASM

I have a few favorite bloggers, as I am sure you do as well.

Things have been very hectic in my house lately, so I thought I would share one of the posts that I related to recently. It is by Bacon and Juiceboxes: Our Life With Autism.

“G.I. Joe’s”

“They’re not as sweet as an old family heirloom. They aren’t as romantic as Daddy’s first BB gun, or Little League baseball glove. But for me, they are nostalgic. They bring me back to a simpler time in my life. I spent countless hours playing with them in my bedroom, in our basement, in the patch of woods behind our house that, to me, was as expansive as the universe itself. They dominated every Christmas, birthday, and the occasional good-report-card day of my childhood.

When I turned fourteen and discovered those mythical creatures called “girls”, I packed them with more love and care than I would ever admit to those scary, pretty creatures and stored them away in our attic.

Even back then, I had a silly fantasy of carefully wrapping them all and giving my future son one magical Christmas morning. I figured his ninth, maybe tenth. We would unwrap them together and set them up in a magical epic battle scene of good vs. evil. Until then, they would remain in their protective boxes, stored away in the secret corner of the attic. I had such grand and silly plans.

First, I met my beautiful wife. Still, they sat unopened. (Well, I may have opened them once and may or may not have whispered a “pew, pew” or two)

Then, our first child. Her name was Anna. She wouldn’t be interested. They remained unopened.

Then, our son. My plan was unfolding perfectly.

My parents sold my childhood home and the boxes were moved into their new basement. God slowly revealed His own plan to me. It was different than mine, of course, and as I have learned, it’s the only plan that really counts. My son is turning fourteen himself this year. Those boxes are still sitting in my parents’ basement. That makes me a little sad (a lot sad sometimes) and that’s O.K. It was a silly fantasy that was never promised. I’ll trust God’s plan and focus on the wonder that is our life. And, I’ll forgive myself and allow a minute or two of self-pity when I feel like a good epic battle of good vs. evil that has never interested my beautiful son. Then, I’ll get back to it… back to what makes him happy… back to God’s plan… back to what really matters.”

This touched me as Buddy recently had a birthday… this year was harder for me than most. I actually had a week or two where I was honestly depressed. I think, because this birthday would have been one where I had imagined him on his own, married and starting his family of 2 children (a boy and girl). He would have been working at his dream job, and asking advice on buying his first home. I would have been helping his sweet wife pick out curtains and baby clothes. But instead, I bought him a new Tonka truck, and a bunch of airplanes. And I also did something that was very hard …I went up into the attic and got down his highchair (that I was saving for his children) and I gave it away.

That was last month, things are back to normal now…Buddy loves his Tonka and planes (he sleeps with them all) and we are also back to God’s plan, and yes, it is what really matters.

Please take a minute and go to Mr. Bacon’s Facebook page and enjoy some of his wonderful posts.

~ASM

Month: June 2018

Does your child know that he/she has autism? How and when do you tell him/her that he/she has autism?