F is for Friendship and Fun
We've had an amazing couple of weeks since I last posted. We sailed through the IEP process and came out on the other side with everything we wanted! And we also came out exhausted! :) My husband always says this journey is a marathon not a sprint, and I think I've been sprinting towards the IEP since the diagnosis and now I need to set the proper "marathon" pace.
Squish celebrated his third birthday with close friends and family. He did a great job staying around the group, sitting to eat his chicken hot dog and blowing out his birthday candles (although he declined the cake with a "NO" and opted instead for vanilla ice cream). He even opened two presents which shocked me since he had no interest in them at Christmas. Best of all, he laughed a lot and smiled a lot, and looked like a very, very happy little boy.
He's also found his silly side. Lots of giggles and lots of belly laughs. These are things I've missed over the past year. I don't know where they went (they were there when he was a baby) but I'm glad they are back. I cherish those belly laughs.
So here's the part of the post where I ask for advice from you wise mommys (if you are even checking up on this blog as I post so infrequently...argh...working on that)...how do you handle dropping "the big A bomb" as my husband calls it on friends? Not close friends, mind you, but the friends you see a couple of times a year? We ran into a couple we hadn't seen in over a year this weekend at a mutual friend's birthday party and had a wonderful chat about their new baby. They were asking us a lot of questions as they are first-time parents and they had mentioned how they were so tired of people questioning when their daughter was going to crawl (she is eight months old). They said they had thrown away the "what to expect" book and were playing it by ear. I empathized with the often well-meaning but totally annoying "milestone" questions hucked at you by family, friends, strangers. I told them that I, too, threw away the book and haven't looked back. That I trust my mommy gut (or as a friend calls it "Jungle Mama") and work from there. I then mentioned that Squish was diagnosed with Autism and that we get a lot, and I mean A LOT of intrusive questions from strangers and the like about when he'll "talk more" etc. Their faces both kind of went blank and one of them stammered out "well, that (autism) can mean a lot of things" and her partner just kind of looked on the verge of tears. I quickly said "he's doing great. He's in all kinds of wonderful therapy and he's making great leaps. He's awesome." And then we just kind of stood there awkwardly. And then the Hubs and I moved on to another couple.
On the way home, the Hubs and I talked about dropping the "A bomb" and how far we've come in understanding Squish's condition and how hopeful we are for his progress and his future happiness as a beautiful, smart, eccentric part of society. Then we talked about the fact that to someone who isn't as knowledgeable, Autism sounds off all kinds of bells and whistles and images that are probably pretty scary to new parents who are concerned about their child's development.
And then I felt like crap. I wasn't comparing their child to Squish. I wasn't even saying she was delayed. I was just empathizing. I feel like just as I'm getting comfortable with saying "Squish has Autism" I'm realizing that nobody is really that comfortable with hearing it.
Would love the wise-mama thoughts. :)
md
posted by MommaD @ 7:07 PM
2 Comments:
That's a good question. Cheers to you for getting to the place where talking about Squish's Autism doesn't send you into tears! That's a BIG step.
I think I would've done the same thing as you did, because just like you we don't hear the "failure" of the word Autism, we hear "success", because that is what we are seeing in Gabe. Autism is not a death sentence for our children, however, for some people Autism makes a room of laughter go silent. In fact, when I first heard Gabe had Autism, I felt like his life changed from endless opportunities to what kind of future will he have?
So, I say, celebrate your Autism Successes! The more we speard the word that Autism is not the end of the world, our children are still wonderful and great, the less reactions like that we will get.
People will always throw curve balls at you. You just have to know when to take a deep breath and be OK with where you are at. First time parents are so tired, apprehensive and sensitive, I bet you weren't the only one that day that said something that sent them running! I was that way with my first child. The hormones were going crazy!
You said what I would have, with a smile throughout---the "A" word can have a conversation-killing effect but I prefer autism ("my son has autism") than to beat around the proverbial bush and then have to say things like "er--he's not in any grade in school exactly." I always emphasize how great he's doing and throw in one or two specifics---you're telling what is and helping, one conversation at a time, to let everyone know that life with autism can be--is---a good life. And how you love and are so proud (as you should be----lovely about the birthday party) of your wonderful boy.
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